Enchanted
by Firevega21
Summary: Marco never asked for any of this. Never asked to be gay, never asked to be a witch, never asked for his powers, and he certainly never asked for that cat! Slash, SpinnerMarco, Sparco.
1. Chapter One: Worst Day Ever

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Degrassi characters -if I did, Marco and Dylan would not be the only ones out of the closet-, Austin Powers, Old Navy, or any other random crap that I will most likely be using in this lovely piece of fiction.

Title: Enchanted

Summary: Marco never asked for any of this. Never asked to be gay, never asked to be a witch, never asked for his powers, and he certainly never asked for that damn cat. Spinner/Marco

Pairing: Right now in the story there is established Spinner/Paige, Chris/Emma, Manny/JT, Dylan/Tom and previous Marco/Dylan. Those are the** only **couples. It will eventually have Marco/Spinner, Ellie/Paige, Craig/Ashley, and Jimmy/Hazel.

Warnings: This is AU, which means Alternate Universe, meaning I have switched a lot of things around. There will be lots of wonderful slashiness, language, violence, cute boys in pain -cough- Marco -cough-, mentions and use of witchcraft (yes, you heard me, Marco is a witch!) and other stuff.

Author's Notes: All right first of all, this is AU, so I'll be switching stuff around to meat my own black little hearts desire. Muwahahaha. Finally I have my Marco/Spinner story. Be forewarned, this is mostly to with Marco finding out he's a witch and making spells and crap. Don't run away yet! It's kind of funny, kind of angsty, will have lots of wonderful Marco slash, and action! I think it's pretty good, actually, so give it a chance!

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Chapter One: Worst Day Ever (Marco POV)

"Mr. Del Rossi, would you care to explain?"

Mrs. Kwan stares at me, waiting expectantly, like I know everyone else in the class -at least everyone who isn't already asleep- is doing. I shift in my seat uncomfortably, eyes darting from face to face with what I know must be a pitiful look on my face. My gaze lands on Spinner, who is smirking lightly at my misery. (1) I shift my head to glance at Ellie, who gives me a sympathetic look.

"Um…"

Why wasn't I paying attention? I should have been listening to her, but no. What was I doing? Drooling all over my copy of...what book are we reading again?

"Well, Mr. Del Rossi? Can you give us the answer or are you going to keep us waiting all day?" she asks, her voice holding a tinge of annoyance.

"Sorry, Mrs. Kwan. I d-don't know," I admit quietly, giving her a sheepish look which quickly turns to nothing but embarrassment when she glares at me. I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks and I quickly look back down at my book.

"See me after class," she tells me. "Ah, Mr. Smith. Do you have the answer?"

I tune out after that. Great, after class with Kwan. I'm probably going to get detention! I've **never **gotten detention before. I mean, I'm a good kid. A wonder student. Over-achiever extraordinaire. I've never even gotten in trouble before; except for one time, but that was in kindergarten. And now look at me. I'm about to get detention. I just know it. I could see it in her eyes, I swear I could. And it's all because of those stupid dreams!

I don't even know what their about. I've had them for as long as I can remember, but lately they've been getting more vivid, and I've been having them more often. It's actually starting to creep me out. I've been getting less and less sleep, and it's started affecting everything I've been doing.

Something hits the back of my head and I blink. I turn my head quickly, only to see a crumpled up piece of notebook paper resting on my shoulder. Scanning my eyes around the classroom I pick up the paper and bring it to the desk, folding it open and smoothing out the edges as best as I can so I can read the writing.

'Dude, what's wrong with you?'

I continue looking around the room, trying to figure out who threw the note at me -although, judging by the hand writing, it's most likely Spinner. I catch his eye and he makes a motion towards the note in my head with his chin. I sigh and reach for my pencil, scribbling down an answer.

'What do you mean?'

I fold it -neatly, this time- and throw it back to him. I watch him somewhat nervously as he reads it. He writes something quickly, wads it back up -doesn't he know I folded it for a **reason**?- and tosses it back to me.

'What do you mean what do I mean?'

I glare at him and he gives a shrug of his shoulders, smiling softly. With a sigh I write down 'SPINNER!' in all capital letters and throw it, aiming for his head. I smirk happily when it hits him in the eye. He makes a sort of grunting sound and glares at me. Without even looking to make sure Kwan isn't staring at him he flips me off. I almost laugh, but then I realize that she might have seen us. I quickly look up to find her back to us, writing something feverishly on the chalk board. With a sigh of relief I allow myself to chuckle slightly and turn my attention back to him, just as he shoots the note back.

'Look dude, I know you've been tired lately, but falling asleep in Kwans? Do you have some type of death wish?'

'No. I don't know. I tried to stay awake it's just…this stuff is so boring.'

'Wow! You **are **human.'

'Ha ha Spin. You should be some type of comedian.'

'I am great, aren't I?'

'Did you have a point to this note?'

'You mean other then to mock you?'

'Look at you! You used the word mock correctly. I'm so proud.'

'Hey…are you insulting me?'

'Whatever gave you that idea?'

'And people think **I'm **mean.'

'You are mean.'

'I am not.'

'Yes you are.'

'Like your some sweet little angel.'

'I **am **an angel.'

'So what does that make me?'

'A devil.'

'Yeah, that's me all right. I am one sexy devil.'

'Oh yeah Spin, your so hot you melt the plastic in my underwear.' (2)

'What the hell?'

'I was being sarcastic.'

'You have plastic in your underwear?'

'Spinner…are you done mocking me yet?'

'No.'

'Don't you think I've suffered enough?'

'Look man I was joking. I mean I'm kinda worried about you.'

'Be careful, your starting to sound like my mama. Or worse…my boyfriend.'

'That's not funny. And I should know, I'm the comedian.'

'You don't have to worry. I'm fine. Just extremely exhausted.'

'Is that all?'

'What do you mean? Of course that's all.'

'Don't lie to me, Marco. I'm your friend. I mean, you can trust me.'

'I have no idea what your talking about.'

'Ever since that thing with you and Dylan, you've been really depressed. Break-ups are hard man. If you want to talk or something…'

'Your weird, you know that?'

'What do you mean I'm weird? Here I am offering you a shoulder to cry on -I don't mean that literally though, okay dude- and all you can do is tell me I'm weird? Paige told me to be sensitive to your needs, or some shit like that, and I'm trying.'

'I know that, and thanks. I appreciate it, really I do, but that's not what I'm talking about.'

'Then how am I weird?'

'You've always taken some weird interest in my love life.'

'WHAT?!'

'Well, you **have**.'

'I have **not**.'

'Yeah you have! You kept badgering me about Ellie, then Hazel. You even set me and Dylan up! And now your…I don't know. It's just weird. Kind of funny though, if you think about it.'

'No it's not.'

'Matchmaker Spinner.' (3)

'Shut up.'

'I can see it now! You could have your own little office, with a secretary and everything! Call me, Spinner, I'll find your soul mate in thirty days or less; money back guarantee!'

'Actually, that might work.'

'Uh…I was joking.'

'No dude. I think your on to something.'

'I'm afraid to ask….what do you mean I'm on to something?'

'That would be a great way to make some extra cash!'

'Your serious, aren't you?'

'Of course I am!'

'Lord help us.'

'Hey, I could be a **good** match maker. I got you a boy toy didn't I?'

'Boy toy? Where do you come up with this stuff?'

'Probably the same place you get your plastic underwear.'

'Besides, my boy toy and I didn't exactly work out.'

'Oh yeah. Sorry dude. I didn't mean to bring it up.'

'It's all right. I just…I don't know.'

'Look, like I said earlier, if you want to talk about it, I'm…here for you, and stuff.'

'Thanks Spin.'

'No problem. So…'

'Yeah?'

'Tell me more about this plastic underwear.'

'You're an idiot.'

'At least I have normal underwear!'

'All right, that's it. This note is over.'

'Your leaving me?'

'You really **do **sound like my boyfriend.'

'Do not. Shut up. You could never get me.'

'Sure I could.'

'No you couldn't. I'm untouchable!'

'Right. Sure you are. You just keep thinking that.'

'No man nor woman will ever be able to pin me down!'

'So what you're saying is your bi?'

'What? No!'

'Oh. So Paige is neither man nor woman?'

'What are you…? Hey! Paige does not have me pinned.'

'Your right. Whipped is more of the word I'd use.'

'Your abusive!'

'Then why are you still talking to me?'

'I'm not talking to you; your talking to me.'

'**You're **the one who started the note!'

'You responded.'

'Fine. I'll stop responding.'

'No you won't. I know you can't stand to be away from me.'

'Careful Spin.'

'Careful about…?'

'You sound like your flirting with me.'

'Shut up! I am not. I'm trying to make you feel better before Kwan mutilates you for nearly falling asleep in her class.'

'Aww, that's so sweet. Your just the cutest little thing.'

'Bastard.'

'Ooo, the kitty has fangs.'

'I am **not **a kitty.'

'Really? I thought you were. Cause your tight. Tight like a tiger.'

'That's not a thing one dude should say to another dude.'

'I love gold!'

'I don't speak freaky deaky Dutch.'

'We really need to stop renting Austin Powers movies for movie night.'

'Agreed dude. Even though it is **fun **seeing Paige freak out when Goldmember does the splits.'

'Yeah. Let's get Oceans Eleven next time.'

'Please tell me the only reason you want to see that is because it has Brad Pitt in it?'

'No. I want to see it for the comedy and action.'

'Oh. OK. Good.'

'And Matt Damon.'

'Damn it Marco.'

'Kidding Spin.' Well, all right, I'm not. I mean it **is **Matt, but I'm not going to tell that to him. It feels like it's been forever since we've talked like this. It's almost sad that we have to do it in a note or something, but hey, I guess I'll just take what I can get. I glance up at the clock and sigh. Just a few more seconds and the bell rings, then I'm dead. 'The bell is going to ring. I'll find you at lunch, all right?' (4)

'Yeah, ok. Oh and Marco.'

'Yeah?'

'Do you really have plastic in your underwear?'

'Talk to you later Spin.'

I watch his reaction as he reads the last line. He looks a bit confused but smiles anyway. He lifts his arm and tosses the note into the wastebasket sitting next to the desk. I find myself smiling slightly as he does it. I haven't had a **real **conversation with him in weeks. Ever since the disaster that was me and Dylan. All right, so maybe it wasn't a **complete **disaster. It was kind of nice, while it lasted. I mean our first date was awful; I thought anyway, especially with my dad and all. They did get better though. We had a fun time, but eventually we realized that we were better off being just friends.

I don't know what it is. I mean, I really liked him -still do- and he said he liked me; he **kissed **me. We had chemistry and everything; it all just seemed to click. But there was just…**something**. I felt like I was being weighed down. I think he felt it too, because one day we just looked at each other and kind of went 'hey, we're not meant to be a couple' or something like that. I'm not saying it didn't hurt. It did. He was my first boyfriend; my first crush. It was nice, to have someone like that. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

He's dating Tom now. (5) I'm happy for him, I really am. I can tell that he and Tom really do like each other and I think it's great he's moved on. But I can't seem to. I feel like I'm over it. But then I get face to face with him and I just feel like I'm going through it all over again. I'm just confused, I guess. And plus the fact that I haven't been getting virtually any sleep, I've just been totally exhausted. My school work, even what social life I had, is suffering for it, too.

I end up falling asleep in lunch. I can't ever go out with the guys anymore, because I'm too busy catching up on the school work I missed that day. I should probably go to a doctor or something, but I really, really, **really **don't want to. I **hate **doctors, and hospitals, and nurses, and needles and just…all of it. Besides I'd hate to become dependent on sleeping pills or something like that. I think my life has enough problems without having an addiction to prescription drugs.

The bell rings and I can't help but wince slightly. It sounds higher and more annoying than usual. Everyone begins filing out of the classroom. I look up to see some of my friends giving me sympathetic glances, and I nod in thanks for their concern. Spinner grabs his books and slides out of his desk, shuffling over to me before Kwan -who is still writing on the chalkboard- can notice. He places a hand on my shoulder and bends his head down, whispering in my ear.

"Don't worry man. You can be strong. You're a survivor."

I laugh softly and look up to him, raising to whisper in his own ear, "Thanks Spin, but you do realize you just quouted a Destinys Child song, right?"He pauses, looking down to glare at me, and I can't help but laugh. "Save me a seat?"

"Sure." He smiles at me and pats my back again. Jimmy clears his throat and motions for him to come on. With one final thumbs up, Spinner rushes out of the room, leaving me utterly alone.

With Kwan.

Gulp.

She turns around, smacking her hands together, causing small clouds of chalk to gather around her. She coughs slightly, hitting her chest once or twice. I bite my lip, trying desperately not to laugh. After her coughing fit she straightens up and walks to the front of her desk, leaning against it.

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean," I tell her honestly.

With a sigh she sits back a bit more. "Marco, you know what I mean. Your grades have been slipping in all of your classes. You're participating less, your work is lacking, and your even falling asleep. Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine really," I assure her. "I'm trying to keep up, but I'm just a bit over whelmed right now."

"And do you have any idea why that is? You're a good student Marco. You don't just go from making practically all A's to struggling with all of your assignments."

"I've just been really tired lately," I explain.

She raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing my answer. "And that's your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse, Mrs. Kwan, really. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, and I've just been exhausted, and…"

She cuts me off by asking, "How much sleep have you been getting? Like say, in the last month?"

"Well," I begin. "I think the hours I've slept in the last month come to a total of about 120 hours. And you might think that's not really bad, but it is. Let's say that there's 30 days in one month. And it's been proven that teenagers need at least 8-10 hours of sleep nightly. So assuming that I get 8 hours of sleep everyday for 30 days, the amount of hours I've slept should be about 240. That's twice as much as I've been getting. And I…"

"Marco," she says, drawing me out of my rant. I look up at her, blinking slightly. "Thank you for the explanation, but this isn't Maths. This is English."

I can feel that same blush rising on my cheeks again and I nod. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"I think you should have a discussion with your parents over this lack of sleep, if it's affecting your schoolwork that much. Maybe you should even visit a doctor." I stiffen at that suggestion and absently shake my head no. She sighs a little, giving something that looks suspiciously like a smile before adding, "Until then, I think I should set you up with a tutor."

"A…tutor?" I ask, almost incredulously. I've never had a tutor before. I've never **needed **one before. Have I really gotten **that **far behind?

"Yes. Come by my classroom tomorrow after the last bell. I'm sure I can find someone by then."

"All right. Thank you. Is that all?"

"Yes," she tells me, nodding and sliding off of her desk. "That's all. You're free to go to lunch."

I'm free to go? She's not going to punish me? I don't mention it, because if I do she'll probably just punish me for mentioning it. I nod gratefully and slide out of my chair, grabbing my books and piling them into my arms. As soon as I have them I bolt, scurrying as quickly as I can to my locker. I drop my books inside, sighing softly with relief when it's closed. I turn, ready to make my escape to the caf. when the sound of high heels clicking against the floor reaches my ears. Don't look back my mind screams. Do. Not. Look. Back.

"Marco," Mrs. Kwans voice calls. "I'm excepting a small essay on the importance of staying awake in class."

I wince. "H-how small, exactly?" I ask.

"Nothing too long. Around four pages, front and back, on my desk before first bell tomorrow morning. Enjoy your lunch."

Crap.

-

I sigh and absently kick a rock that lies on the sidewalk. (6) Man this day was bad. It wasn't awful, because I did manage to talk with Spinner today. Usually all of my energy is spent on trying to stay awake, so I don't even have the time to attempt conversation with anyone other than Ellie and, on occasions, Craig. I guess I've kind of missed my talks with Spinner. He's been such a great friend -minus his jerkiness when he first found out I was gay- to me since I first met him. He was there for me when me and Dylan broke up. He even listened to me rant about it for hours. I have a sneaking suspicion he was playing Super Smash Brothers while I was, but that's not really the point. I've been pushing him away for the past month or so, along with everyone else.

"Stupid dreams," I mumble, kicking a beer can. I guess I'm caught up in my moping, because all of a sudden a loud yelp reaches my ears. I look down to see my foot on top of a furry black tail. "Ah!" I stumble back, tripping over my own feet and landing on the cement. I wince as my tail bone lands on the curb, yelping as it does. I look up to see a black cat, staring at me with huge eyes. Taking a breath I push myself up to where I'm on my knees and cautiously move towards it.

"I'm sorry," I tell it softly. It hisses at me and backs away again, causing me to frown. "Ah, don't be that way. I really am sorry girl. Uh…boy."

Girl.

My eyes widen and I immediately fall back over in shock. Did that cat…? Did it just…? Impossible! I scramble upwards to my feet, pivoting to the right so I can take off in a run. I end up smacking against something though, and feel myself falling backwards again. I try to grab onto something to steady myself, but the only thing around is air. I end up falling, arms flailing everywhere, striking the cat across the face. It…she hisses at me and swipes at my hand with her claws. I yelp again -I know, I'm a wimp, so sue me!- and roll away, trying to sit up. When I finally do I scramble backwards, I am breathing heavily, my gaze drifting to me the cat in the eye.

"N-nice demon kitty," I stutter backing up into a wall. "Good hell cat. Yes, very good hell cat. You don't want to eat me."

I hear chuckling and risk taking my gaze away from the beast to look up. My eyes meet a clouded, almost silver gaze. I gasp a little and look the person up and down, taking in their appearance.

She looks somewhere in her mid-seventies -at least. Her skin is pale, even smooth except for the places near her eyes and mouth were there are wrinkles covering the skin. Her eyes are kind as she smiles down at me softly. She is dressed in a dark blue dress; a long length skirt and long sleeves. There is a black cape-looking thing thrown over her shoulders, the hood pulled over her head and resting in the middle of her forehead. She has snow white hair that reaches her shoulders, curled at the very tips. She kind of reminds me of a picture I saw of my great grandmother.

"Excuse me deary," she says with that same smile, making her eyes look a little smaller. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Startle me? My breathing returns to normal as I sigh in relief. It was her talking to me. Honestly, a cat. Maybe I really **do **need a doctor or something. She extends her hand, offering it to me. I take it somewhat shakily and she helps pull me up into a standing position. I dust off my Old Navy shirt and the back of my jeans.

"That's all right," I tell her, finding it hard not to mirror the small smile she wears. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look a tad bit shaken up," she speaks again, and I hear the undertone of some type of accent. British, Irish maybe.

I merely smile and nod again. "No, really I'm fine. I uh…just with the cat and…well…" I trail off, laughing at my own stupidity and shaking my head. "For a second there I thought it was the cat that was talking!"

"Oh my deary," she says, joining in with my soft laughter.

"Yeah. Crazy isn't it?" I add, shaking my head.

That smile never leaves her face, only grows slightly at my last comment. "Oh no deary, it's not crazy it all."

I look up at her, tilting my head to the side a bit. "Of course it is. The cat talking to me? That's impossible."

"But deary, she **did **speak to you."

I blink at her slowly, not really understanding what she's talking about. Soon I laugh again, lifting a hand to pat her on the shoulder. "That's a good one! For a second there you **actually **had me going," I tell her. I continue chuckling, finding the situation kind of funny, actually. When I meet her gaze again I stop laughing, seeing that her expression is completely serious. She's…she's not joking. "WHAT?!"

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(1) I know Spinner was held back for English -or whatever it is they call it- but in this story let's just say that he's in their same class.

(2) The plastic in my underwear thing. I heard it somewhere and found it highly amusing.

(3) Me and my friend who watches Degrassi were talking and we were like 'yeah, Spinner should make up his own matchmaking business or something' you know, cause he set Dylan and Marco up. I swear that was the **cutest **episode ever.

(4) I don't know the schedule, so let's just say that lunch is right after English…which Spinner is in.

(5) If you saw the episode where Dylan and Marco had their first date, you know who Tom is. He's the guy who was so obviously crushing on Dylan. Evil Tom.

(6) I know that Marco's daddy drives him to school, but let's just say that he lives close enough to walk home.

Author's Notes: -nervous laughter- I went a bit over board with the note, didn't I? Oh well. I thought it was cute. And is it just me, or has anybody else noticed that Spinner **does **take an interest in Marco's love life. He does act like his mother sometimes, or a jealous boyfriend. -cough- And if you pay super duper close attention to their dialogue sometimes -like **some **people…me- do, it really does sound almost like their flirting sometimes. And ok. That's it for the first chapter. This will be an ongoing story. I have big plans for this story, too, and will updating whenever possible. I can't wait to see how people will react to Marco have powers!

Marco: I'm a witch? I get special powers? What's up with the dreams? And the cat? Is my tutor gonna be a hottie?

Spinner: He better not be.

Oh I have a plan, because unlike almost everything else I write, this has a -gasps- PLOT!

Marco: No way!

Spinner: Do I get to jump Marco during this so called "plot" of yours.

I can't give that away.

Spinner: -pouts-

Marco: There there.

Spinner: -grins and grabs Marco-

Marco: EEP!

Spinner: -throws Marco over his shoulder and runs-

Get him back here! Hey, we **need **him for the plot. SPINNER!!


	2. Chapter Two: In my Dreams

Disclaimer: When I assemble my evil minions and take over Canada, I'll own Degrassi. Muwhahahaha! Until then, I don't have jack squat.

Author's Notes: The second chapter. Yay!

Marco: Oh gee, I'm **so **excited.

Spinner: One more chapter and I'm closer to getting kisses! -jumps around the a/n happily-

Marco: -watches Spinner jump- It's making me dizzy…

Spinner: Whee!

Um…read, enjoy, review. -smiles-

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Chapter Two: In my Dreams

I stared up at the woman, blinking once or twice before I began moving away. My breathing began to increase as my eyes shifted from side to side quickly, looking for any way of escape. This woman is obviously mentally disturbed. I mean, that's the only thing that it could be, right? That hell cat couldn't have really talked to me…could it?

"Do not be afraid, deary," she says to me kindly, that soft smile ever present on her features. At first it was endearing, kind of sweet; now it's only adding to that look of craziness about her. God, what was I thinking, talking to a woman in a cape?!

I take in a few breaths, my mind racing at a hundred miles. What can I possibly say to her? I've never dealt with an elderly deranged lunatic before; well, an elderly deranged lunatic who I **wasn't** related to. Well, Uncle Moirés isn't **really **deranged, he's just sort of…special. I shake my head. This is no time to be thinking about my special relatives!

She's still looking at me with those sparkling kind eyes, smiling as she walks closer. Okay Marco, don't panic. You can not panic. You will be calm in the face of danger. Oh no, she's getting the cat! She's going to let the hell beast have me! I'm going to die!

Shut up, Marco, says that voice again. Hearing it again, I realize that it too has a certain accent. Greek maybe, or maybe even Italian?

"What?" I question, not being able to keep the slightly nervous squeak out of my voice. Suddenly my eyes widen a bit. "How did you know my name?"

"I didn't," the woman tells me. "She did," she says, motioning to the cat with her chin. I look down at the cat, who has not moved from her position at the curb of the road. She hisses at me again, and I swear I can see a disapproving glare flashing across her eyes.

I blink at the woman incredulously. Does she actually expect me to believe that a cat is talking to me? She really **is **insane. I open my mouth, prepared to inform her that there is no possible way that a cat could communicate with a human. Quickly my mouth shuts. I can't say that. If she is a nutcase, then what will she do if I basically come out and tell her that she is? Besides, I don't even want to **think **aboutwhat the devil kitty will do to me if I voice my opinions.

"You don't believe me, do you deary?" she asks softly.

"Um…sure I do," I tell her, forcing myself to sound and appear calm. I doubt it's helping though. I bet hell beasts can smell fear.

She shakes her head a bit. "You don't have to lie, deary. I can sense it. You do not believe me…yet." I drag my gaze away from the cat up to meet her silvery eyes again. "But you soon will. Soon, you will learn all about your power, and you will be able to accept it; just as I know you have accepted many other things in your life."

"Wait just, just back up for a second," I say, shaking my head, causing a few loose pieces of hair to fall in front of my eyes. I ignore them and continue speaking. "Did you just say…power?"

Are you deaf or something kid?

That voice again! I jump a little and look down at the cat, who is now staring at me…in amusement? But how can a cat…? Could she really…? This isn't happening!

"Shh," the woman says, glaring down at the cat. "I'm sorry, she doesn't have very good manners." The kitten hisses at her but she ignores it. "And yes, I did say power. You could not be a witch without any."

Ah, well, that makes sense.

Wait…a WHAT?!

"W-witch?" I stutter. What in the **hell **is this lady talking about?

Something passes over her face and she blinks, almost appearing to be startled by my question. Her mouth forms into a small 'o' and she steps back an inch or so. "You didn't know?"

"Listen…I'm sorry. I have no idea what your talking about," I inform her quietly, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. Maybe if I try to look pitiful enough she'll leave me alone and not freak out on me or something.

She shakes her head softly and lets out a sigh, a small smile causing her lips to twitch upwards. She turns towards the cat. Taking a few steps she reaches her and kneels down on her heels. She reaches out with one pale, wrinkled hand to pat her on the head.

"It looks like we've got our work cut out for us, on this one, eh?" she questions the cat, who only makes some sort of purring sound in response. Gulping, I decide to take this chance. Gripping my hands around my backpack I take off, running at top speed until I reach my house.

"Wait! Marco! Don't run!" I hear her yelling but refuse to turn back. Instead I keep running as fast as my legs can carry me. I continue to push myself, even when there is a stinging pain in my side. I wince, scrunching my face in pain as the throbbing increases. These short little legs were **not **made for running.

Finally my house comes into view. I half jog/half stumble to my front door, sagging against the frame as I try to catch my breath. I shove one of my hands into my pockets and pull out my key, fumbling around for at least a minute before I finally get the door unlocked. I nearly collapse at the doorstep, but managed to keep myself standing by gripping the chair railing around the walls.

I begin moving slowly towards the steps, still taking deep and raged intakes of breath. I've never been much of a runner, really; not for long distances anyway. Add the fact that I'm already pretty exhausted and well…it's not pretty.

I manage to make it to the staircase without tripping over anything -a miracle, as far as I'm concerned. My hands grasp the cherry wood stair rail and I begin to pull myself up the steps groggily. About one-third of the way up I hear my mama's worried voice echoing the staircase. Tilting my head I look down to see her standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me with a concerned face.

"Marco baby, are you all right?" she asks me, her dark eyes scanning my figure for anything that might prove to harmful.

I shake my head, offering a tired smile. "Yeah ma, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You don't look fine. Are you running a fever? How are you feeling? Maybe your sick. I could call the hospital and we could get Dr. Cooper over hear in thirty minutes…"

"Ma!" I say loudly, cutting her off before she forgets to breath and starts turning blue; yeah, that **has **actually happened before. "I'm not sick."

"Well you look sick. Is it the drugs, Marco? I thought you promised me you would never do drugs. It's that Spinner kid isn't it? He's been giving you dope hasn't he! Don't think I don't know about the dope young man, because I do! And I will have no son of mine running out the streets selling drugs!"

I roll my eyes. "Ma, it's not drugs. I swear it."

She looks at me suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest. "You better be telling me the truth, mister. I'm going to check your room later, and if I find anything suspicious I'm taking you to Dr. Cooper anyway to get you tested for drugs."

With a heavy sigh I turn away from her and continue my long trek up the stairs. I've been letting her watch to much MTV or something. Honestly, it doesn't matter what's wrong with me, she'll always ask if it's the dope or the crack or the weed. I don't know why, but she's convinced Spinner is going to get me hooked on drugs or something. I've told her a million times that Spinner would never do drugs, but she doesn't seem to believe me. Pap isn't much help either. He's always saying that he doesn't like it when he comes over to the house; that 'something isn't right about that boy'. Parents.

I somehow make it to my room. I push the door open and stumble in, letting my book bag slide off onto the floor before I collapse on top of my head. I sigh in bliss as soon as my body hit's the comforter, feeling my form almost sink into the mattress. Sleep. Rapture.

Using my feet I manage to kick my shoes and socks off. I lift the covers and climb underneath them, tucking my knees into my chest as I wrap my arms around a pillow, snuggling into the warmth. My eyes begin to drift closed, but I can't help but think about that strange old woman. How did she know my name? What did she mean about power and witches? Could I have really…I mean I couldn't…right? I can't really be a witch; I didn't really talk to a cat. Heck, that woman was probably just some escaped mental patient looking to sacrifice me to some cult or something. I frown, realizing that thought doesn't make me feel much better about the whole ordeal. I can't help but wonder though, even as I'm seconds away from practically passing out from pure exhaustion, how did she know my name?

- Dream -_I am standing in the middle of a desert. I think it's a desert, anyway. Dark red sand seems to stretch out around me for miles. Silver moonlight pours around me, giving me enough light to see a good twelve feet in front of me. Unconsciously I clench my toes into the sand -apparently I don't have shoes, or socks- and sigh as I feel the warmth spreading over me, soothing my aching feet._

_There's a voice behind me and a deep and mocking laughter that follows. I can hardly make out the words. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, focusing all of my energy on the sounds. A cool breeze whips around me, and I can feel some sand blowing against my jeans._

_"Who's there?" I call out, turning around in a circle slowly, surveying the area nearest me. "Who is it?"_

_I'm frustrated, because all there is the laughter again. I scowl to myself, one fist clenching at my side. "C-come on out," I say, and I curse myself for sounding afraid._

_"Are you scared?"_

_The voice is close now; too close, right beside my ear. I try to jump but a strong arm slips around my waist, holding me tightly. I gulp as I feel something being dragged across my chest. My naked chest. Oh God._

_"Don't_..._" I whimper as pressure is applied. I shiver, suddenly feeling very cold, and very alone, and very, **very **afraid. I dare to glance down and see a pale hand gripping a dagger. The dagger is about nine inches long, and maybe three and a half or four inches wide. The handle has been sculpted into a Dragons head, out of silver. It's a beautiful weapon, actually, if it weren't being pressed against me right now. He -it has to be a he, because the arm around me is so strong, and that voice I heard was distinctly male- chuckles in my ear again, causing goose bumps to rise on my neck._

_"You don't have to be afraid," he whispers soothingly, and his lips are much to close to my skin for my liking._

_"That's hard to believe, with you holding that knife and all," I tell him and he laughs again. I'm so glad I can amuse him. I try to pull away but I only end up pushing myself against the dagger. I whimper again, feeling warm liquid trickling down my chest. His hand slides down, his fingers gently brushing the blood away, and I find myself shivering again, letting out another whimper at his touch._

_"I don't have to hurt you, Marco," he whispers and I gasp slightly, realizing that this is the first time he's ever said my name._

_"How did you…how could you possibly know…?"_

_He laughs again, and this time I swear I do feel warm, soft lips brushing against the skin of my neck. "Of course I know, Marco. I've always known."_

_His grip tightens and the dagger presses down against my skin even more. "After all," he whispers harshly into my ear, causing me to let out another soft moan of pain. "You belong to me."_

- End Dream -

I shoot up in bed, my breathing heavy. I can feel sweat beading on my forehead. I take in a few breaths, trying as hard as I can to calm myself, but I can't seem to. I can feel a shiver running down my spine, the goose bumps still on my neck on the exact place that His lips touched my skin. I run a hand through my raven locks, trying to remind myself that what just happened was just a dream; only a dream; only the reason I can't sleep at night.

That one was…different than the others. He's never said my name before. He's never told me that I belong to Him before. I've seen the dagger a million times in my life; in those dreams, or nightmares. I guess I couldn't really call them all nightmares. I wouldn't call the one I had tonight a nightmare.

Believe me, I'm disgusted with myself for even thinking such things. But the way it felt to have that arm around me, lips brushing against my skin, having those words whispered to me; it felt nice. I won't deny that. Of course, the nice feeling is taken down a bit by the fact that He did have that nice pressed against me, and that I think he's trying to kill me.

I sigh softly and begin pushing the sheets off of me. After a dream I can never get back to sleep; after a dream I never **want **to get back to sleep. Especially tonight. This dream was so…vivid. It felt so incredibly real. Maybe it's just because I miss Dylan, or just miss having a boyfriend, or something. Why else would I think of Him doing and saying such things to me? I must have one twisted mind.

I sit up and immediately fall back, a slight stinging in my mid section causing me to stop. Frowning I grasp the edge of my shirt, pulling it up. I gasp as what I see. There is a small rivulet of crimson liquid moving down my tan skin. I'm imagining it. I…I must be. Shakily I move my other hand to my stomach. With a deep breath I brush my fingers over the liquid, biting back a whimper as I bring my finger to my face. I sniff, my face shifting into a look of disgust at the smell. It's only one thing. Blood.

How could it be? That-that was a dream! Wasn't it? I stand up and move shakily to the small bathroom that connects with my room. I flip the light on and move to stand in front of the mirror. I slip the shirt off over my head, wrinkling my nose when I catch the blood stain on it, and throw it on top of the hamper. I look at my reflection in the mirror. There is a small line running from the bottom of my rib cage to my mid abdomen, about four and a half inches long. I wet a wash cloth and bring it to my stomach, dabbing at the blood. I can feel bile rising in my throat -I really don't like the sight of my own blood- but I push it back down. When I'm through cleaning it I open the medicine cabinet and pull out a first aid kit. I grab one of those big patch Band Aids and place it over the wound, smoothing the edges down gently with my fingertips. Looking back in the mirror I make sure that I am pleased with my nursing skills before I head back into the bedroom, not bothering to turn the light off.

What just happened? That was a dream. It **had **to be. I mean if it wasn't, where's the sand, huh? Where's the freaking desert?! There most certainly aren't any in Canada -not that I **know **of, but I don't think they'd make one without telling everyone. And why would we **want **a desert anyway?- and there most certainly aren't any in my room. I wiggle my toes, nodding faintly when I feel no sand. It couldn't have been real. So how did I get…?

"I must be going crazy," I mutter to myself, moving to the wall to flip on the light switch. I know I'm not going back to sleep, so I might as well turn on all the lights and watch some TV. I think South Park might be on. Usually I can't stand shows like that, but it really is funny. As long as I know to close my eyes whenever they kill Kenny, I'm usually all right.

I plop down on the end of the bed, my mind still racing as I reach for the remote. This is turning out to be one heck of a day. I grab the remote and flip the TV on, surfing through the channels until I come to Comedy Central. All right, Towlie! I smile softly and lean back, my head resting against the pillows. Now this is something I know how to deal with.

What is this shit? And what the hell is wrong with that towel?

My eyes widen. Breathing shakily I turn to see the black cat -the same one from earlier, I think- sitting right beside me on my bed, staring at the television with her head cocked to the side.

"Eep!" I yelp in surprise and fall off the bed. I curl my hands around the bed and pull myself up onto my knees, staring wide eyed at the kitten. She makes some sort of purring noise and I glare at her. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you were laughing at me…" I mutter softly.

I am. You witches are so clumsy; especially the male ones. Utterly hopeless.

"I'm not hopeless," I retort indignantly. "And at least I have thumbs! And…and oh my God…I'm talking to a cat." I begin to back away from my bed as she turns to me. "How did you get in here?"

Uh, through the door, dumbass.

I blink a few times. "Through the door? How could you…? You're a **cat**!"

No shit Sherlock. And people say witches are slow.

I scowl at her. "One more rude remark and I'm calling the animal control."

And tell them what? Oh hello officer, yes a kitten broke into my home, and now she's terrorizing me.

I take in a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to do. I realize that -as sad as this is- the hell cat is right; I can't call animal control. What the could I say?

Would you stop calling me a hell cat? It's annoying.

"I never called you a hell cat," I inform her, frowning.

Well you thought it.

"So? That's different, and I…wait. How did you know I was thinking it?" I jump back a little. "You can read minds, can't you?"

Ding ding ding, we have a winner! How did you think I had been communicating with you all this time? Through the transmitter the aliens put in your brain?

"No," I hiss in annoyance. "That's not funny, you know. There's no such things as aliens, so there isn't any transmitter in my brain."

Right. That's just what they **want **you to think.

A look of confusion passes over my face and I scrunch my brow. What's going on around here? First these dreams start getting worse, then I meet that creepy old woman, then that dream I had tonight, and now the hell cat-

I told you to stop calling me that!

-I mean kitten is sitting on my bed, reading my mind. How can any of this be possible?

"This can't be happening," I murmur, mostly to myself as I begin to pace back and forth. "Your not real. Your just a figment of my exhausted, warped imagination."

If I was just a figment, then could I do…this?

I glance down at her, barely registering what is happening in my mind before she lunges at me. I yelp and move back, hitting the wall and sliding to the floor, the cat sitting on top of me. There is something that kind of looks like a grin on her features as she raises her paw.

There now, what figment do you know could do that, huh Rom Baro? (1)

I glare at her. "Plenty, actually." She gives me a suspicious look. And yes, I know it's a cat, but I can tell that her look is suspicious. "All right, well only one. But He can certainly do a lot more then just push me into a wall."

She tilts her head to the side. _Like what? _she asks me.

I mentally debate it for a while, then figure hey, what could it hurt? I push her down into my lap gently and motion to the bandage on my chest. I wrap my index and thumb around the edge, pulling it down to reveal a bit of the small wound. She hisses slightly through her teeth.

Who did that to you?

I blink at the possessive sound in her voice and smooth the bandage back. "Just some guy that has been appearing in my dreams."

How long has this man been in your dreams?

"Years now. But they've been getting worse over the past few months." I chuckle softly to myself, shaking my head. "But why am I telling you this? Your just a cat…"

I am not **just **a cat, Rom Baro. I'm your familiar, and you better give me something more about this man, or else I'll give you something worse then a wimpy little scar like that.

I stiffen in surprise slightly. "What do you mean, you're my familiar?"

I can see her roll her eyes. _Out of that whole threat and the only part you focus on is the part where I say I'm you familiar?!_

"Well, what is it?"

There is another eye roll, and I could swear that she sighs heavily. She squirms around, getting slightly more comfortable in my lap. _All right Rom Baro, I guess I should start from the beginning, since your obviously clueless. First of all, Marco, you, are a Chovexani. (2)_

---

(1) Rom Baro means Big Man, or like a Chief of a gypsy tribe. In Marco's case, our kitty is using it in a sarcastic way.

(2) Chovexani means witch in the gypsy language. I'm not just making this up people. I've done my research on the gypsies. (yes, this done mean kitty is a gypsy, but you'll find out all about that in the next chapter)

Whoo, a cliffy!

Marco: Didn't we have one of those during the last chapters?

Yes we did, and expect more to come.

Spinner: I didn't even get to be in this chapter. -sulks-

Ah, but you were mentioned! Please review. It is greatly appreciated and helps me write. BYE!


	3. Chapter Three: Explanations and Meetings

Disclaimer: I really don't own anything. I swear it. Honest. No really, I don't.

-blinking- People reviewed.

Marco: -is shocked-

Spinner: -is more shocked-

Well that's...neat. I'm just surprised is all. So uh...yeah.

Marco: -is still in shock-

Um...I don't really know what to do with myself now. I suppose revievew responses shall be in order.

just-nikki: Wow, thank you for the kind review. I mean there was love three times. -smiles- I know the your and you're. I'm a redneck. And I know that's no excuse for bad grammer, and one day I will learn how to fix that. And I'm glad you think it's creative. That's what I was going for. In other fandoms you see tons of stories about vampires and stuff, but Degrassi has like, none. It was so sad. I'm going to end up writing a vampire ficlet. I just know it.

eclipsed: Ah, great? Thank you! I was afraid I'd gone overboard with the note in Ch.1, but I just couldn't stop myself. Cursed fingers. -sweatdrops- Ah yes, I love DylanMarco. Did you see 'It's Raining Men?' The cutest episode ever made! But I like get-to-gether fiction. And I think Spinner/Marco is cute. I'll have you converted yet. Muwhahaha.

megtyped: You were my first reviewer. It was funny cause I was sure I wouldn't even get one throughout this whole thing and yours popped up. So thank you for reviewing.

Ah yes, and of course, you can not forget the lovely flamer!

Marco: Thank you!

Uh...I meant flame as in bad review for this story hun.

Marco: Oh...

Yes. I was planning on just ignoring this, but it was so damn amusing I just had to say something.

The following is a flame sent to firevega from flygurl09. Ahem: WHAT IS THIS CRAP? Sorry but I'm not going 2 read anymore!! I like tha marco thing but not with all this kitty and witch crap!!

-laughing- I'm sorry, but this was too funny! I mean, I put a warning in the **first** chapter that this is about Marco being a witch. And how can you like the 'marco thing' but not the kitty and witch crap? The 'marco thing' **is** the kitty and witch crap! Honestly people, if you are going to flame me, do it because I'm an awful writer, not because I made Marco a witch. I mean come on! I even listed it in the Supernatural section. -shakes head in disappointment- At first I was upset that my story was called crap, but after a while I just sort of had to laugh it off. Now I just sit and stare at it in amusement before looking at the other reviews that say they like my piece of crap.

Spinner: -uses the flame to make a smores- Mmm...tastey!

Well at least someones happy.

---

Chapter Three: Explanations and Meetings

First of all, Marco, you are a Chovexani.

I stare at her, shaking my head. "A w-what?"

In my peoples language, Chovexani means a witch. You are a witch Marco.

"All right, you can just stop right there. I can't be a witch. I mean, one, I'm a guy! Aren't witches supposed to be girls?" I ask her.

She shakes her head. _No, no. The true definition of a witch is a human being with abilities and powers that other humans do not have; their gender does not matter._

"But still…that can't be right!" I tell her, unable to keep myself from screaming. I know I'm going to wake mama and pap up, but frankly I don't care. As long as it gets this crazy cat out of here, then it will be worth the grounding I'll probably get.

Would you stop that?

"Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

Yes, you are. You keep calling me crazy, you keep interrupting me, and you keep arguing with me! Now you are a witch and I will prove it to you later. Right now I need to explain some things to you. So shut the hell up.

"I…"

I said shut up! Question and answer time will be provided after the explanation time. Her dark eyes narrow at me, and I find myself gulping slightly as I nod. I mean, I might as well listen to her, right? I can't believe I'm talking to a cat. _Good. Now you are a witch, as I've previously mentioned. You were born a witch, which means that one of your relatives was probably a witch as well, or was connected to the magical forces in some way. Now that you are almost an adult, your powers will soon start making themselves known. That is why I am here. I am your familiar; I am here to help you train, to help you learn to control your powers._

"But…you're a cat," I point out for what seems like the millionth time today.

No I'm not. I just **look **like a cat. I am really a gypsy.

A gypsy? Now this is just **to **weird. "You can't actually expect me to believe that, can you?"

You're talking to me, aren't you?

"…" I open my mouth to say something but find that there's really nothing I **can **say. She's got me there. With something that closely resembles a smirk she continues with her explanation.

Yes, I am a gypsy. I used to live in Rome with my clan. We were all very powerful, and knew many witches. When I died I became reincarnated as a cat, so that I could become a familiar and help witches like yourself discover and control their powers.

"Then who was that woman with you today? Was she a familiar too?" The question is out before I can stop myself. I can't help but be curious; I mean yes, I know this is all fake. The sleep deprivation must have gotten to me and now I'm insane. I'm talking to cats for God sake. What normal people have conversations with cats? The only explanation is that I've gone completely insane. I'm probably in a mental institution right now. I bet I even have one of those straight jacket things on. I frown slightly at the thought. Those things **never **look good on anyone…

No, she tells me. _That woman was Samantha. She has been my keeper for more than a century. Ah and before you ask 'what's a keeper', a keeper is the person who keeps we familiars with them when none of our charges are ready for us yet. They also help us find our charges when they come of age. She led me to you. Now, I have explained all of that. It is your turn._

"My turn…?" I ask her softly. My turn what? And I don't think she's done explaining everything.

With a sigh she moves off of my lap, stretching her body out. _Your turn to explain your dreams._

I sit up a little more, watching her cautiously. Should I tell her? I can't believe I'm even asking myself this question. I can't tell her, right? I mean she's a cat…a gypsy…whatever. And she's probably not even real. "I must be losing my mind," I tell myself, rubbing my temples.

Ah, but you can't lose something you have never had, she informs me coyly, jumping back onto my lap. _Now spill. I demand you tell me everything about these dreams. How long have you been having them?_

Oh, what the hell, eh? Might as well tell her. "Since I was around eight or ten," I answer with a sigh. "They've always been the same; I'll be walking around the desert, at least I think it's a desert, and then there is this voice, someone mocking me or something. But lately they've been getting…worse."

How so? she asks me curiously, and suddenly I have this mental image of her raising an eyebrow. I laugh to myself lowly, since it is a pretty amusing mental image, since she **is **a cat. She hisses at me and I shake my head, getting back to the point.

"Well, I've been having them every night for the past month. And they've gotten even more vivid then usual," I say, gesturing to the cut on my chest. "I must be insane."

You are not insane, Rom Baro; you are haunted.

I blink at her a few times. "What do you mean haunted? And why do you keep calling me Rom Baro?"

She ignores my questions, instead asking, _Have you been through anything particularly traumatic lately? A family death, some personal issues?_

I shift a bit nervously, not sure if I want to share this information. I mean, my parents don't even know that I'm…so how can I tell her that…? With a sigh, I realize that one of these days I'm going to have to talk about it. And who better to talk about it with than a figment of my imagination? "I broke up with my first boyfriend a month ago."

She doesn't even seem surprised by the information; more amused, actually as she purrs, which sounds a lot like a laugh. _Almost half of my male charges have been gay. It's just a curse that I get them. _I let out a soft breath that I didn't even know that I was holding at her comment. I can feel myself relaxing a bit. I always get extremely nervous when I have to tell someone that I'm gay…even if it is a cat.

"What does my break-up have to do with anything?" I ask her, slightly apprehensive.

It's not the break-up, but the emotional state that it left you in. It probably left you more venerable than usual, and that is why you have been seeing this man in your dreams more often; it is because it is now easier for him to slip into your mind. We will have to work on building your defenses back up.

"Um…excuse me, but what are you talking about? There's not seriously someone who can like, break into my dreams or anything. Their just nightmares. I mean…they are…right?"

With a soft hiss she swipes her paw at my bandage, barely making contact with the skin. A slight stinging runs through my chest and I pull back, wincing slightly. "Point taken," I say through slightly gritted teeth.

You are being haunted. This man is most likely another witch; another **evil **witch. If he is in your dreams he is probably trying to corrupt you and bring you into his coven, or steal your powers, or something else along those lines. Whatever the reason, you are in grave danger if he continues in his haunting. You must start your training immediately.

I shake my head slightly. Placing my hands on either side of me I make a move to stand up, but stop with I feel sharp claws pressing against my skin. I look into her eyes and find myself taking a shaky breath. This is ridiculous! I will **not **be intimated by a cat.

"Listen, I don't want any training."

I do not care if you want or not; you will receive it, unless you would rather die.

"It's crazy enough just listening to all of this, but actually trying to train to become a witch? Do you know how asinine this all as?"

Oh, asinine, big word for an 5th grader.

I glare at her, shifting to push her away from my chest. "I'm in grade 10, thank you very much."

Really? Aren't you kind of scrawny to be in grade 10? How old are you? Twelve, thirteen?

"I'm not scrawny," I retort, my anger flaring. "I'm just…I'm…leave me alone."

Sorry Rom Baro, no can do. We must train.

"Train? You mean like for witchy stuff?" I ask, stifling a laugh. "What are you going to do; teach me how to fly around on broomsticks?"

Now who's being asinine?

"Shut up."

Witches don't fly unless it's on an airplane. I'm talking about training you with the basic powers that every witch has.

"Basic powers?" I ask tilting my head to the side a bit. "Like what?"

My God, you really **don't **know anything do you? The basic powers are simple things; like mind speak, what I am doing now. That you are definitely going to have to learn. We can't be walking around together with you having a conversation aloud with me. People really **would **think your crazy. There are other things, too. Like telekinesis, reading minds and sometimes even being able to control minds -but you won't be learning to do that, since it is for **very **advanced students- and calling upon the four elements; water, air, fire and earth.

Wow. I sure do let my imagination run away with me. I mean, look at all the powers I'm invented for myself to have! I should be a writer -well, I mean, if I wasn't crazy and all.

You're **not **crazy, you moron! You're a witch. W-I-T-C-H, witch! I know you might find it hard to believe now, but you are. And if you don't start your training -and soon- then you might end up dead, or worse.

I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head to the side. "Worse? What's worse than being dead?"

Becoming a slave to the dark forces. Now, you are going to have to listen to me and follow my instruction exactly. First…

"Whoa whoa, hold on a minute there," I tell her sighing. "Look, I still don't believe you. I mean, I can't. It **is **a nicer theory then being crazy, I'll admit that, but a witch? I can't be a witch."

And why the hell not?

"Because…" I reason brilliantly. "Like you said, witches have all these powers and stuff. I haven't ever experienced any of them. And I mean…you make it sound like…witches are strong."

They are.

"Well that's just it! I'm not strong. I'm a complete wimp, actually. Just another reason that I can't possibly be a witch," I inform her. I wrap my hands around her shoulders, lifting her up to set her on the ground. I stand and walk over to my bed, sinking into the comforter when I fall back on it. Maybe I'm still dreaming. Yeah, that's it. This is all just some big freaky dream. I close my eyes, squeezing them together tightly. When I count to three, I'm going to open my eyes, and there will be no cat.

One.

Two.

Thr-

"Ah!"

What the hell are you doing?! We haven't even gotten started and you're already sleeping on the job. Bad Rom Baro, bad.

"Ow," I hiss at her. I can't believe she just jumped on my chest like that. She shrugs and slides off of me, one of her claws brushing against my cut. I wince as she does. I sit up as soon as she is off of me and stare at her. She looks into my eyes, never taking her gaze off of mine. We stay like this for I don't know how long, neither of us wavering.

Fine. Do you want me to prove to you that you are a witch?

I blink at her. Prove it? I shrug my own shoulders, letting out a sigh. "Sure. I don't know how you possibly could, but if you think you can, be my guest."

She smirks -I swear that she's smirking- and leaps gracefully off the bed onto the floor. She runs to my book bag and whips it with her tail, receiving my full attention.

Open it, she commands.

"All right…" I tell her unsurely. I get off of the bed and begin walking over to her. "I don't know what this is going to prove but…"

No, no, **no**! I meant open it using only your mind.

I stare at her. "You can't be serious, can you?" She nods. "No way. I'm not going to try that."

Why? Afraid little Marco? Does the baby need his pacifier?

I pout slightly, glaring at her a little. "What kind of familiar are you anyway?"

A difficult one. Now sit your ass down and open the damn bag.

"All right, all right." I sit down on the edge of the bed. I look at the bag, my eyes concentrating on the silver buckle which holds it closed. "Open sesame!" I say dramatically.

Nothing happens.

"Told you."

Dumbass.

"What?" I ask her. "I **did **what you asked me to do. I tried."

Well I didn't ask you to **try**; I asked you to **do **it. Now quit being such a baby!

I huff slightly and then turn my attention back to the bag. Focusing a bit more, I once again try to get the bag to open. Again nothing happens. "I can't," I tell her shaking my head. "I don't know what I'm doing."

That's obvious, she tells me as she jumps up to my side. _Try again. This time, focus all of your energy on the bag. Imagine it opening at your silent command. You can do this._

I nod my head. I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I picture it in my mind; the clip sliding out and the top of my bag opening, revealing the books of homework -that I didn't do- piled inside.

Success!

"Huh?" I open my eyes, staring at her in confusion. Then I look down, only to see my bag open. "Holy shit!" I yell out, immediately slapping a hand over a mouth. She adds her paw on top of my hands, each of us glancing around to make sure my parents didn't hear. With a sigh of relief I remove my hands. I frown, glaring at her when she fails to remove her paw from my mouth.

See, you did it. Now you have proof. And plus, do you have any other way to explain the dreams? Face it Marco, you are a witch. I am your familiar. And this, is your destiny.

I still can't believe what I just did. Man this is freaky. I shake my head, drawing in a sharp breath. "I…I guess. I mean if…I can't believe I just…I'm really a…"

Yeah yeah yeah. All right, first thing is first…

"What's your name?" I ask her curiously. I lean back on my elbows, peering at her underneath my dark bangs. I can't believe that I'm a witch. A living, breathing, one hundred percent sane -I can only hope- witch. I crawl off of my bed and move towards my bag, ghosting my fingertips over the now open backpack. "Freaky," I murmur. I turn around, holding the bag in my lap as I settle myself onto the floor. She is still staring at me, and I realize she hasn't answered my question. Maybe she doesn't have a name. "Well if you don't have one, then I'll just give one to you. How about…Fluffy?"

What the hell kind of name is Fluffy?

I bristle slightly and shift, the bag following my movements. "All right, so no Fluffy. How about Black Cat?"

Creative dumbass, aren't you?

"It's just a suggestion. You don't have to mean about it," I say, pouting slightly. "What about…gum drop?"

Can you think of something that **doesn't **scream my owner is a complete flamer? And where do you get **gum drop **anyway?

I glare at her, hands gripping the bag tighter. "Well fine. If your going to throw out all of my ideas, you can just name yourself!"

I already **have **a name, for your information.

Pulling my bag with me I stand up, once again making my way over to the bed. "You do? Well, why didn't you tell me? Never mind," I tell her, shaking my head. "What's your name?"

Mozol. (1)

"Mozol?" I question, scrunching my brow as I try to get the pronunciation right. "How about I just call you Mozzy?"

If you add a y to my name I swear I will take that bag and shove it up your…

"Mozzy it is!" I declare happily. I can feel her eyes burning holes into my neck as I pull out my notebook and a pen. I open it to a blank sheet of paper and tap the end of the pen against it thoughtfully. I have to write this. Mrs. Kwan will kill me if I don't. "Hey, is there any way I can use magic to help me write a four page report about the importance of staying awake in class?"

She tilts her head to the side a little. _Well, you could always curse the teacher who gave you the assignment._

I sigh. "Never mind. I'll do it myself."

You should probably get some sleep. We're going to start our training tomorrow. I watch as she flops down on her stomach, her eyes going to the screen. _Oh my God, did you just see that? They killed that little boy in the orange coat. Those bastards!_

I blink at her in confusion and shake my head. This really has been one heck of a day.

-

The last bell rings and I bring my head of from my desk, lifting my hands to rub the sleep from my eyes. Man last night was freaky. I did manage to get that report done, even though Mozzy did keep interrupting me to ask how Kenny could die in one episode and then come back in the next. I finally ended up telling her that Kenny was a witch and he had the power to bring himself back to life. She mentioned something about how lucky I would be if that was my special ability. I ignored it, since I really did want to get that report finished.

__

I grab my books and begin heading to my locker. I can hear Jimmy and Craig calling me and look back to see them -along with Hazel, Paige and Spinner- coming up to me. I throw my books into my locker and shut the door, turning to them when they reach me. "What's up?" I ask them, trying to pretend as if nothing is wrong. It's been hard today. I mean it's not as if I **want **them to know that I all of a sudden have magical powers. They would probably think I'm crazy. But still, I don't know how I'm going to hide it from them; especially after I start my training.

"Are you going to come with us to the Dot, or are you going to ditch us again?" Jimmy asks me.

"I don't **ditch**," I tell him. "I'm just…busy."

"Yeah well, tell us your not busy tonight," Paige says with a smile.

"Sorry guys," I say, shaking my head slightly. "But Mrs. Kwan is making me get a tutor to help me catch up with all the stuff I've missed. I wish I could go, but you know Kwan. If I'm not there, it'll be…" I raise my hand, dragging my index finger across my neck and making a cutting noise.

Spinner shakes his head and pats my shoulder. "Dude, I don't know what happened to you. What happened to that big brain of yours?" he asks, knocking on the side of my head.

"Ow!" I tell him, jumping away and pouting slightly. "That big brain of mine probably got damaged because **someone **keeps banging on it!" I say, narrowing my eyes. "Why does everyone keep abusing me?" I ask, rubbing the side of my head.

I notice Paige glaring at Spinner slightly but I ignore it, instead just shrugging and lightly hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs at me and catches my hand, holding me at bay. Curses! He finally releases my hand and swings it around Paige shoulder, giving me a small wave with the other. We all say our goodbyes and I begin walking towards Kwans.

"Mrs. Kwan?" I question when I get there, knocking on the doorframe before I enter. I look around the room to see her sitting at her desk, a boy standing in front of her. I move to stand beside him. Clearing my throat I get her attention.

"Ah. Marco Del Rossi, this is Slade Avron, your new tutor."

"Hi," we both say as we turn to face each other. He gives me a warm smile, revealing a two rows of perfectly shining white teeth. He extends his hand to mine and I take it, absently shaking a little bit to quickly. He looks a little older than me, maybe grade 12 or something. He stares at me with ice blue eyes that I just can't seem to look away from.

"Nice to meet you Marco," he tells me. His voice is smooth and deep, very easy to get lost in.

"Um…yeah," I mutter, surprised that I can still speak. This guy is gorgeous, to say the least. He has jet black hair which is spiked up, the very tips of it highlighted with red. He's about seven inches taller than me, and oh gee, don't I feel insignificant. He's wearing a semi-tight dark blue t-shirt, and I can't help but notice the muscles that the tightness of the shirt accents. His pants are a lighter blue, and somewhat baggy. There's a studded black belt wrapped around them, reminding me of one Ellie tried to convince me to buy one time. He looks a lot better then I would have.

I'm still shaking his hand.

"Oh. S-sorry," I stutter as I pull my hand away. I can feel myself blushing as he gives a soft chuckle.

"That's all right. I don't mind," he says with a smile that makes my heart beat three times faster in my chest.

And I thought Dylan was hot. I shake my head. Man, I have been out of the dating scene for way to long. I know that; I mean, I don't **always **drool over cute guys. Oh man, I'm never going to get through this. I'm going to end up getting nervous and…he's probably straight.

"Marco, I just want you to know that Slade is an excellent student. He'll be helping you out. I'm sure he can teach you a few things," Mrs. Kwan says as she stands up, shuffling out of the room.

I turn back to him, unable to do anything but stare. He grins at me and I can feel myself blushing again, causing him to laugh. He has a nice laugh. I peer up at him, seeing that he is still giving me that same warm smile. I know it's too much to hope, but maybe…maybe having a tutor won't be as awful as I first thought.

---

(1) In the gypsy language, Mozol means black current. I think that's what was. It was black current, and I liked that name cause you black current, black cat. Yeah…

I know that Spinner acts a little out of character, but it's kind of important for the story. I just find it fun to make him and Marco flirt. You know, I think they flirt on the show; it's just that their such good friends they don't even think about it. Eventually other people are going to notice though. Anyway, hope this chapter amused you. God introducing Slade was fun! I have such plans for his character. I tried to fix the your and you're thing in this chapter. That wasn't my best writing, either. I'm going to try to make this story better so the readers -if any- don't have to be bored to tears.

Spinner: -twitching- I don't like this Slade.

Marco: I do!

...

Marco: Err…I mean I'm madly in love with** you** Spinner.

Spinner: Good.

Uh…please review. And I won't be able to update for a while. My friend is coming over for a few days. I'll probably be able to update again on Monday. If she leaves on Monday...

Marco: -sarcastic- Because you two just don't spend enough time together!


	4. Chapter Four: Lessons

Disclaimer: I own Slade, Mozzy, and Samantha. You can't have them! I love my black kitty and Slade is just **so **pretty. -drools-

Author's Note: -is in awe- People reviewed again.

Spinner: Odd...

So err...yeah. I'm still very surprised. I would have updated sooner but my friend came over and she ended up staying for six days instead of two...heh.

Marco: -rolls eyes-

Anyway, reviewer responses!

caramelo: Thank you! I know what you mean. I was looking around and was like 'Err...hey. Where are the vampire stories? How come Marco isn't be abused?' It was very sad.

Marco: Oh yes, it's **such **a tragedy!

-nods- And don't worry 'bout Slade. I have plans for him, but he will **not **become a male Mary-Sue. You see he's...

Spinner: Don't tell them you moron!

Oh yeah. Heh. Wow, your favorites list? I'm on peoples favorites! Cool!

Isdule07: Yeah. In my mind Slade is **very **pretty. -twitches- And I love Mozzy. She's my baby!

just-nikki: Three awesomes...in a row. Nifty! I don't know if my animals talk to me, actually. I have so many voices in my head that I can rarely hear anything over them.

Thank you all for reviewing. I know it's not many, but for a story I thought no one would ever read, I'm pretty darn happy.

---

Chapter Four: Lessons

"And he's so sweet, too. He was like really patient with me, and he even read some of the parts out loud. And he's like, a freaking genius, or something. I bet he has an IQ of like a zillion. Oh and he's gorgeous too. I mean he has these eyes…oh God Spin, his **eyes**. Their like…so…pretty. And he…"

"Marco!" he says, eyes narrowed at me angrily.

I blink at him in confusion. I see his hands curling around the sides of his lunch tray, knuckles turning almost white. Laughing nervously I give him a sheepish grin. "Uh…sorry. Guess I got a little carried away, huh?"

"Ya think?" he asks me sarcastically. "All I've been listening to for the past twenty minutes is Slade this and Slade that and did you see Slade's ass in those jeans?"

I tilt my head to the side as he continues to rant. "Did I really say that thing about his ass out loud?" I ask jokingly. His eyebrow twitches in annoyance. I amuse myself by staring at the little vein in his forehead. It's getting bigger…and bigger…and bigger…he's gonna blow!

"Marco!"

Laughing, Paige pats his shoulder. "Calm down hun," she tells him, shaking her head. Jimmy is in hysterics at the look on his face, causing Hazel to giggle just to impress him. It's so obvious that those two are meant for each other. Always flirting and stuff. It's like they can't even see what's in front of their faces. "I think it's kind of sweet that he's found a new man crush." Even Ellie joins in laughing a little at the look on Spin's face. I look over at her, ecstatic that she seems happy. Her mood has lightened a little since school started back up. I mean, she's still a bit antsy around Paige and all. She never did give me all the details about what went on between them. She only told me that it was Paige who found out about her cutting, and she helped her cope. I always thought Paige was a bit stuck up, but I had new found respect for her after that. She helped Ellie out a lot; more than I thought she could have. I actually think a friendship with Paige could be good for her. If Paige would just stop being so…well you know…**her**.

"So, tell us more about this wonderful blue eyed God," Ellie says dryly. I know she really doesn't want to hear me talk about it, but I think everyone at this table loves to see Spin when he's going into a near heart attack. I do think she's over me now, though. We're still soul mates though. No guy -blue eyed God or not- could ever, or will ever, take her place.

"All right, well he has this voice. You know how you see those evil villain guys on movies, and they have these really deep voices that make you just sit there and go, wow…?" They nod. "Well that's what he sounds like."

"Well that's a good sign. He sounds like an evil villain guy," Spinner murmurs, resulting in Paige hitting his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Look, I'll shut up now, Mr. Matchmaker," I say grinning. His eye twitches again and I laugh. The rest of them give me confused looks but I shrug it off. I guess I did go a little over board on the Slade speak. I can't help it. I mean, he's just so, nice and wonderful and handsome and smart and funny and perfect. And I know I've been off the scene for a while, but I could have sworn he was flirting with me yesterday. I hope he was, since I was flirting. I mean, I have gotten over some of shyness when it comes to the whole dating thing...only a little though. And I was only being friendly; don't want to scare off someone who could possibly become a very cool friend if he is straight. But hey, a man can dream, right?

-

I shift the bag on my shoulders a little, trying to make sure that it doesn't fall off. These last few days have been very…eventful, is all I can say. I mean first I find out that I'm a witch, then I find out that these dreams I've been having are actually allowing some evil witch into my mind -to possibly make **me **evil- and then I meet the man of my dreams. Yeah, I think eventful would sum it up.

"Hey Marco!"

I turn around to see Spinner running up behind me. I stop mid-stride, waiting for him to catch up. He slides to a stop near me, grinning as he slides his own nearly fallen bag up onto his shoulders.

"Hey Spin," I greet just as happily, though not quite as loudly. "Want something?"

"Just wondering if you were gonna come by the Dot. It's my day off, 'ya know. Or are you gonna blow everyone off again?"

I sigh softly, offering a weak smile before I stop to turn to him. "I don't blow you off, Spin. I would never blow you off -and yes, I realize how incredibly wrong that sounded, but it only sounds wrong because you're a sick pervert, so shut up- I've just been really busy lately."

He laughs and shakes his head a bit. "And you call me the pervert? I didn't even think of it that way."

"**Sure**."

"I swear dude."

"Whatever," I say, peering at him suspiciously from underneath my bangs. "I'd like to go, but I got tutoring with Slade."

"**Again**?" he asks, bewildered at the fact that I might actually see him more than once. I nod my head in the affirmative. He shrugs his shoulder and begins walking. I stand there, blinking a bit.

He turns back to me, staring at me with an expectant gaze. "Come on."

"Huh?"

"I'm walking you to Kwans."

Oh. I trot up to him. I give him a smile as we continue heading towards class.

"What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I tell him. "It's just so sweet that you want to meet my new crush."

"…I never said that's why I was going."

"But isn't it? After all, you **do **seem to have this weird investment in my love life…"

"Fine. That's why I'm going," he says, and he sounds a bit irritated. "I just want to go make sure this guy isn't some crazy maniac who's going to kidnap you and lock you up in a basement where he's going to turn you into his obedient sex slave or something."

I stop walking for a moment, merely blinking at the back of his head. "Spinner…where do you come up with this stuff?"

"TV," he answers curtly as we round the corner, heading into Kwans room. I shake my head at his stupidity.

"I think you need some type of hobby," I comment absently as we step into the room. Slade is sitting at one of the desks, looking incredibly perfect in his tight gray shirt and black pants, hair spiked up the same way it was the other day. I look up at Spinner, expecting him to give me some type of thumbs up or something. Instead he's busy glaring at Slade. I shrug slightly, a bit confused as to why he's doing so -I thought he was over it all; I mean he set me and Dylan up, and he's been trying to get me back into dating ever since we broke up- but I decide to ask him later, or maybe not bring it up at all. I knock on the door. Slade looks up at me, his blue eyes gleaming as he gets up from his desk and moves over to us gracefully.

"Hey Marco," he tells me and I nod a bit.

"Slade, this is Spinner. Spinner, this is Slade," I introduce them, adding the proper hand movements here and there. I notice how neither of them look very happy to meet each other. I look between them in confusion, and I know I must be pouting because I was kind of sure the two of them would get along. At first, Slade actually reminded me a bit of Spinner.

Slade shakes his head a little, as if pulling himself out of a daze and extends his hand like he did when we first met. "Nice to meet you. I'm Slade…but I guess Marco already told you that."

"You have no idea," he mumbles. My eyes widen slightly and I kick his foot. He yelps and glares at me, eyes speaking in murderous volumes if I do it again. I try to give him an apologetic smile and move a bit closer towards Slade.

"Really?" he asks, smirking softly as he looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. I try to play it off cool, but end up blushing and mumbling something as I shuffle away quickly to the desk. I busy myself with grabbing my books and piling them on top of the desk. A few moments later I look up to see Slade walking towards the desk. I lean back slightly, trying to find Spinner, but it looks like he's not even here anymore. "He left," Slade says as he sits down beside me. "I don't really think he liked me much."

"I'm sorry about the way he acted," I apologize, not looking up at him as I stare down at my book. "Usually he's not so…" I trail off, trying to find the right word.

"Prickish?"

I blink at him and find myself laughing, even though I mentally berate myself for it. Spin's my friend; I shouldn't be laughing when he's called a prick, even if it is by one of the hottest guys I've ever meant. Man, since when did I have such a one-track mind?

"Not the word I would have picked…but yeah," I tell him.

He pats my wrist lightly, moving his hand away just as quickly as he touched me. "It's all right. I know the jealous boyfriend type. Not to say that I can blame him."

I stare at him, and I just know that my jaw is two inches away from the floor as soon as he's finished speaking. Words come flying out of my mouth before I even have a chance to realize what they are. "You can't…I mean he isn't…I'm not…well I am but…we aren't because I mean…and he's…and he didn't talk to me and I just…well then we…and….I mean…"

"Marco, Marco, calm down!" he says, chuckling slightly. He places one hand on my shoulder and the other underneath my chin, lifting up my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Pick a sentence; go with it."

I nod, suddenly finding it even harder to speak now that he's touching me. With a deep breath, I calm myself enough to follow his advice. Pick a sentence. Go with it. "H-he's not gay, I mean he has a girlfriend and everything. He's just one of my best friends who happens to take a very strong interest in my love life."

He removes his hand from my shoulder and chin -I am shamed to admit how disappointed I am that he does- and tilts his head to the side. After a little while of staring at me with a look that is caught between amusement and curiousity he laughs and shakes his head.

"What's so funny?" I ask him, even more confused than I was a few minutes ago.

Still chuckling he says, "I've never heard of a gay guy having his straight best friend as a matchmaker. I just find it highly amusing."

I shift in my seat slightly. "Hey, it's not **that **funny. And Spin is a really…involved friend…so he tries to help me out and how did you know I was…uh…" I trail off softly.

"Gay?" he offers quietly.

I nod. "Yeah. Do I like, give off some sort of, vibe, or am I really just a big flamer?" I ask, recalling Mozzy's words from a few days ago.

"It's not you," he assures me. "I just have a very sharp gaydar. I've honed my skills for years. No one can get by them."

I laugh -all right, so I giggle, but I can't help it; he just says it so **seriously**- and beam up at him. He's gay. He knows I'm gay. YAY!

Err…what can I say? I get over excited.

"Do you think you can teach me how to hone my own gaydar?" I ask him, still laughing.

"There are a lot of things I can teach you, Marco."

I stop laughing immediately and stare up at him, gulping slightly. He probably didn't mean it that way, but they way he said it, well it just sounded so…**suggestive**. I give a nervous chuckle, even though I know I must be blushing. "Right. About English, because that's what you're here for. To teach me about English."

Tilting his head to the side, and giving me a thoughtful look, he asks, "Is there something else you wanted me to teach you?"

A few things…

Bad thoughts!

"N-no," I stutter nervously.

"Are you sure?" he asks me. "I mean, I'm just a genius when it comes to English. You should see what I can do with quadratic equations, it would blow your mind."

There's that word again…

More bad thoughts!

"I'm sure you could blow me…I mean my mind. I'm sure you could blow my mind. With your wonderful skill for quadratic equations." I sigh pitifully and slap myself on the forehead, causing him to laugh hysterically. "Can we please just get onto the assignment?" I ask quietly.

I guess he finds it in his heart to take pity on me, because he nods, continuing to laugh. "Sure thing."

-

Blow is now my least favorite word in the English language. I completely embarrassed myself in front of Slade today. I finally meet a nice guy -a nice gay guy, who is willing to flirt with me- and what do I do? I act like a total dork. And I can't believe that he thought Spinner and I were together. The thought is laughable, really. I mean Spinner would never be gay. And even if he was, what would he want with me? No, all Spinner and I will ever be is good friends.

That disappoints me more than it should.

I head upstairs to my room, stopping to give my ma a hug and kiss before I do. I run up to my bedroom as quickly as I can, glancing up at the clock on the wall. 4:30. Oh man, Mozzy is going to freak out on me. I open the door to my room quietly, trying to be as discrete as I can. With a soft sigh of relief I tip toe through the doorway. Maybe she got distracted by a ball of string, or something, and forgot that I'm…

A ball of string? Is that what you think? That I'm just some easily amused cat who gets distracted from the mission of saving her charge by a damned ball of string?!

I jump slightly at the sudden voice, tripping over the bag pack that I let drop to the floor only a few seconds earlier. I fall to my knees, banging my elbow and my head against the dresser. I yelp and end up falling forwards, face first onto the carpet.

"Don't scare me like that," I murmur. She 'humphs' and walks over to me. I lift my head up, meeting a very angry kitty gaze. I give a sheepish smile. "Uh…sorry?"

Can't you even be on time Rom Baro?

"Are you ever going to tell me what that means?" I ask as I stand up. I walk over to my bed and lean against up, reaching down to roll up one of my pant legs, revealing a rug burned knee. "Just look what you made me do. Crazy hell cat…"

Watch it, she says, hissing.

"I didn't mean to be late. I just sort of got…well you know I had tutoring today," I explain to her as I take my seat on the bed, folding my legs underneath me.

She jumps up beside me, making a sort of hiss when I don't do anything. With a roll of my eyes I reach for, patting her head lightly before I begin scratching behind her ears. She purrs happily and nuzzles into my hand. "Aww," I say. "You know what, when your not yelling and bitching at me, your kind of cute. Yes you are. All you need is love and attention, you pretty kitty witty, yeah."

Your such a sweet talker, Rom Baro. I don't how anyone could not fall for your wondrous charms.

Frowning I take my hand away, sticking my tongue out at her when she hisses. She stalks to the end of the bed, settling herself comfortably against one of the pillows. _First lesson is first; your mind speak. You know actually, you are better than when you started._

"Thanks," I tell her, happy for the compliment.

But you still suck. I frown at her. _You just need to concentrate. All you need to do is focus some energy on the task at hand. Reach out to me with your mind. Feel the power growing, and push it to me. You can do this Rom Baro._

"All r-"

Ah, ah!

"Oh yeah, forgot. No talking."

You just did it again.

"I did? Sorry. Oh, I did it again didn't I! Woops. Heh…sorry. Oh…well damn."

Marco…

"I'll stop now, promise!" I take a deep breath and close my eyes, remembering her instruction. Reach out with my mind. I focus my energies, searching for my power center. I don't really know how it is I manage to find it, or even how to explain it really. All I know is that I just seem to search through my mind and suddenly there's this, spark thing, and suddenly I know I'm tapped into my power. After a few seconds I find it, grinning faintly to myself. I've been able to find it a lot faster now. I imagine myself stretching the power out, almost like a tendril, shooting into Mozzy's own mind.

That's good. Now, say something to me.

Uh…

I mean an actual **word **here, not just uh, dumbass.

Hell cat.

I told you to stop…hey! You made more than an undistinguishable grunt. That's great progress, for you anyway.

Yay me.

Yes yes, yay you. Now, let's try saying something else. A full sentence perhaps. Here's one; Mozzy is the all mighty queen and ruler of the universe!

Breaking concentration momentarily I open my eyes, staring down at her blankly. "You actually expect me to say that?"

Eyes closed, concentrate, and for the last time, no talking out loud!

"Oh yeah. Sor…"

Rom Baro…!

Sorry.

Good now, just concentrate on saying it.

'Kay. I take a breath, concentrating my energy. _Mozzy is the all mighty queen and ruler of the universe!_

Perfect. Now, try something else. Like quoting a paragraph or something.

Right. Uh…

There you go with those 'uhs' again. Sometimes I wonder if your vocabulary isn't just made up of those little grunt things.

I make more than grunt things! Your are too cruel, you know that? Your supposed to be **guiding **me, not yelling at me every chance you get. Your probably the worst familiar I've ever met.

One, I'm the **only **familiar you've ever met -dumbass- and two, you finally made an entire sentence! Four sentences, to be exact.

Hey I did! Yay me again. So, can we move…now?

What?

I…move on…?

Hey, I think your breaking up.

Huh?

You must be losing your connection on my mind. Strengthen it before it's broken.

How do I…?

I blink as I feel the conncention cut off. With a heavy sigh I shake my head in disappointment. I was sure I had it down too.

Don't worry about it. We'll practice later. What we should work on is your telekinesis.

"Why? I already opened my bag. I have more control over that power than anything else," I commented.

Which is exactly why you need to practice it. Use it for all it's wroth Rom Baro. If your other skills are going to be as bad as your mind speak, your going to need it.

"Oh gee, thank you **so **much for the encouragment," I murmur sarcastically. "So, what do you want me to try and lift?"

Using her tail as a type of pointing stick, she motions towards my computer desk. I scan my eyes over it, wondering what exactly it is she wants me to pick up. "You know, just pointing to the desk isn't being very specific. I don't know what you want me to get. Is it that book over there? It looks pretty heavy…"

Not the book dumbass. The desk.

"Oh. Well then…wait what? The desk? Like the whole freaking desk with everything on top of it?" I ask in disbelief, eyes widened when all she does is nod and let out a small yawn. "It's too heavy."

You'll be lifting heavier things then that in the future. And look, you'll never know if you don't try. You didn't think you could open the bag either, remember? But you did. Go on.

I just know that something bad is going to happen if I try this, but…here it goes. Letting my eyes drift shut once more, I again search for that power source. I find it easily and start to focus my energy on the desk. I can do this. I crack my right eye open a bit, a huge grin coming across my face as I see the side of the desk lifting.

That's it. Now, just concentrate on getting the entire thing off of the ground.

"Right," I mutter, still trying to keep my energy focused on the desk. Soon the entire thing is hovering two inches above the carpeting. With a deep breath I push a bit more, and suddenly it moves up. After a few more minutes of doing this I finally have it floating a good foot.

I want you to move it to the other side of the room, right in front of the closet.

No problem. Come on Del Rossi, you can do this. At first I begin moving it slowly, until my speed steadily increases. I stop the desk when it is centered directly in front of my closet doors. I lower it down gracefully, making sure that I don't hit anything while I do.

That's good. Keep it steady.

"Piece of cak…"

"Marco?!"

The shrill yell startles me, making me lose my concentration and fall off the bed. The desk drops in front of the closet, the crashing sound echoing through the room as one of the legs breaks off. All of the books slide down onto the floor, making a thud as they do. I wince when the stereo finally falls, crashing against the closet door, leaving a hole in the side.

"Marco?" my mama's voice calls again. I hear her pounding on the door. "Why is this door locked? Marco?! What are you doing in there, hmm? Is it the drugs? I smell smoke!" She pauses, and I can swear I see her eye watching me through the keyhole. "Are you smoking the weed in there?"

"N-no ma! I'm fine. Everything is perfectly fine!" I yell from my position on the floor.

"You let me in that room this instant young man!"

"I can't ma!"

"And why not? Is it because you have the weed? Open this door right now!"

I have to think fast! I look over at Mozzy pleadingly, hoping she'll have a way to tell him me out of this. She merely stares at me. Think, think, think!

"Marco…! I'm coming inside."

"No ma don't come in here. I'm uh…I'm…I'm naked!"

"…what?"

Good save. **Very **smooth.

I glare at her. "Shut up," I hiss quietly.

"Marco Del Rossi you did **not **just tell your mother to shut up!"

"No! I uh…I was talking to um…that was the TV!"

There is a pause. I hold my breath, praying to every God I can think of and asking them to just please keep my ma out of this room.

"What are you doing in there naked with the TV?" she asks. Before I can say anything there is a soft gasp and a long 'ooo'. "Um…well then…um…"

Oh no…I can't let her think that I'm doing **that**!

Do you want to tell her you were practicing your witch craft?

"No," I whisper softly. "But I can't…"

"Marco? Honey, what is?" I hear my fathers voice ask from outside of my door.

"It's nothing papa! You and ma just…uh…you two can go now!" Oh God this is embarrassing!

"You need to talk to your son," my mama says sternly. "He was in there, naked and watching the TV, making all sorts of…noises and crashing sounds! You talk to your son, and you do it right now!" The sound of her stomping away reaches my ears.

"Oh…boy. Um…say Marco, sometimes, when a young man, such as yourself, gets these…um…urges…"

Dear Lord please **no**! Mozzy shakes her head and places her paws over her ears, hissing under her breath. _I don't want to hear this, I don't want to hear this!_

"…and sometimes the best way to get rid of these urges is to um…take care of them yourself. Do you…understand?"

"Yes papa," I say quietly, burying my face into my hands.

"And cold showers help too, you know. And sometimes it's best if you have a magazine or…"

"Papa!" I scream. I know my face must be crimson right now. "Just…I know…okay? I'm fine…really."

I hear him take a breath. "All right Marco. And remember son…if you…well if you decide to have someone else…**help **you…remember to use protection. And get tested. Always make sure the other person has been tested! I won't have no son of mine getting the HIV or some se…"

"Papa! Enough okay!"

"…promise you will use protection?"

"Yes I swear, I will be protected all the way."

"Good. Well…I'm glad we could have this talk."

I can not believe that just happened. I sit up, rubbing my temples, trying to get rid of the headache I feel coming on. I look over to see Mozzy curled up in a ball, paws still over her ears. Rolling my eyes I crawl over to her. I poke her shoulder, but she just lays there, shaking her head. Annoyed I flick the back of her tail. She hisses and turns towards me, eyes flashing angrily before she pounces into my lap. I raise my hands to protect myself from the oncoming attack before I realize that she's not attacking me. She's…snuggling?

"Mozzy…?"

I've been so traumatized! I never, ever, ever, **ever**, want to hear any of those talks again. Next time you feel like having 'the talk' with someone, get me out of the room!

"There there," I tell her softly, stroking the fur of her neck. "Everything's going to be okay."

She pulls back from me and looks over my shoulder. I turn my head in the direction, surveying the damage the desk has done.

Look what you did, she says shaking her head as she jumps off of me and stalks towards the closet. _See all of this damage? That's what you get for not paying attention._

I stare at her, blinking as my mouth hangs open slightly. "You can't seriously be blaming me can you?!"

You're the one who got distracted. There will always be something that could draw your attention away from the task at hand. The trick is not to let it. You've still got a lot to learn, Rom Baro. I just hope that I have time to teach it to you.

---

I didn't know where to end it. I hope I didn't make anyone seem **to **out of character. All right the next chapter is going to be kind of short, but wait for chapter 6. That's when they **real **fun begins.

Marco: Do I even want to know?

Probably not. -grins- Yeah. Wasn't my best work, but it's going to get better. And hey, soon we will even get into the plot.

Marco: This story has a plot?

Spinner: Other than me getting to molest Marco?

Yes!

Spinner: Ahh...

Please review!


	5. Chapter Five: Recap

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Degrassi; I own my original characters, the dagger the crazy guy uses to cut Marco up with and that's it.

Author's Notes: Whoo! Another chapter. I liked how it turned out. Heh...

Marco: -shuddering- I didn't!

Review Responses

eclipsed: Wow, amazing?! Thank you, and thank you for adding me to your favorites list. Yes, I know, I love perverted humor.

Fucted Up Kid: I love your name. It makes me think of Mest. I know! There are like, no supernatural ficlets for Degrassi. It's so...odd.

Enigmus: Thank you. Well, this story has about 13 chapters, so don't worry, their gonna get together soon. And they have thier little 'moments' scattered about the whole ficlet.

just-nikki: Yeah, I think Marco is a perv too. I don't really think he is as innocent as they portray him on the show...-cough- Well, I'm updating, so please don't send your hell cat. One is enough to deal with...

---

Chapter Five: Recap

I snuggle into the warmth of the comforter, cuddling Serge -he's my stuffed tiger, okay? My ma got it for me, and he's cute, so shut up- to me slightly. These past few weeks have been exhausting.

First and foremost, my witch craft training. I swear, Mozzy is such a slave driver! I've nailed my mind speak finally; even though I still tend to talk out loud to her when we're in my room or something. My telekinesis is getting pretty good, too. I still have a bit of trouble reading peoples thoughts. I don't really like going inside other peoples' minds, anyway. A persons mind is supposed to be the one place that their safe; the one place where they can hide all of their emotions, fears, thoughts and feelings without having to worry about anyone else ever knowing. I feel kind of bad, poking through their psyches just so I can learn how to fight some freaky guy who has found a way to worm himself into my dreams.

Oh, and speaking of that freaky guy, he hasn't even been near my mind in a full two weeks. It took a bit for the spell Mozzy taught me how to cast -the one that keeps him out of my mind while I'm asleep- to work; after all, she couldn't cast it herself -despite what she says she _is _still a cat, and the most she can do is use her mind speak- and I wasn't very skilled in my witchy ways. The fact that I've learned the spell hasn't set me at ease much, though. Just because this freaky guy can't get me in my dreams anymore, it doesn't mean that he can't still get me when I'm awake. I may be growing stronger, but I'm not anywhere near powerful enough to actually fight this man; Mozzy and I still don't even know what he was doing in my mind in the first place. She has a fuzzy idea, actually, but doesn't feel like sharing. Meanie.

I've started casting spells, too. My first one was that one which I cast on myself. It's more like a shield; something that will automatically go up to protect my mind when I can't do it myself. It's a pretty ingenious little spell…thingy…actually. It's kind of like my own personal security system. I've made some potions and done some charms too. Potions are fun; they remind me of chemistry a lot, actually. I forget the names of some of them though. I remember one I made; some type of truth serum dealy. That um…well let's just say that maybe slipping it into my papa's coffee wasn't the best idea. He kind of got thrown out of the bedroom for a week. I probably shouldn't have put that stuff in Spinner's juice, either, but it **was **kind of funny to see him run out of classes all day in an attempt not to curse out the teachers. All right, so I felt kind of bad, but I haven't slipped anyone anything else.

Unless you count the small mix of sage and rosemary -plus some weird smelly stuff that Mozzy had me buy- that I uh…**accidentally **dropped into Paige's sandwich. I didn't mean to do it; **honest**. It just kind of…happened. It didn't do much actually…except turn her hair green for a bit. It was supposed to bring out her more optimistic and kind vibes -basically make her nicer- but I think I added a bit too much smelly stuff. Heh…

Other than that, there's not much else. Oh, I have been practicing summoning the elements though; you know, the earth, air, water and fire thing? I've pretty much only done air and water; their the easiest after all, because air is all around you and I can practice it wherever I'm at, as long as I'm pretty inconspicuous, and I can do water when I'm washing my hands or taking a bath. Of course, it was kind of hard to explain to my ma how come there were huge puddles of water all around the bathtub; I went a wee bit over board when I found out I could make itty bitty whirlpools in my bubble bath. Um…moving on.

Second are my tutoring sessions with Slade. He's so great. I find myself sighing dreamily just at the thought of him. All right, so I'm crushing, but I can't help it. He's just so…I can't explain it. Everything about him feels right. And he's genuine, too. He doesn't beat around the bush; there are no mind games with him. I mean, work comes first and everything -I've raised my English grade back up- but when a lesson is over he's not ashamed to flirt or anything like that. I remember, a year ago or so, when I would have given anything to be like that. To feel so comfortable with who I was.

In fact, I **still** would give anything to be like that. I always feel like I'm hiding from people. I get nervous when someone asks me where my girlfriend is; I still haven't even told my parents yet. And now with this whole witch thing…

At least when I tell people I'm gay, the worst thing that can happen is they insult me, bash me, or abuse me in some way. But if I told people I was a witch? I'd be locked away in a mental institution. I don't want that. It's just another secret I have to hide. At first, when I was still oblivious to my powers, I only had one side of myself to hide; now I have two. It's hard living like that; it feels like I'm living not one, but **two **double lives. I wonder if that would make it a quadruple life?

I groan slightly to myself; it's to early in the morning for angst. Especially the kind of angst where a lot of analogies and actually thinking are involved. Much too early for either of those things.

Lazily opening one eye, I spot a big ball of black fluff resting at the end of my bed. Aww! Mozzy is so cute. She really is a very adorable little kitten; you know, if she wasn't so mean. She reminds me of that little insult dog. Never mind that it's a different species, different genders, and the insult dog is a puppet; they have a lot in common. Although I don't think Mozzy has ever insulted Eminem on national television.

I glance at my alarm clock, making out a few hazy numbers. 10:34. Thank God it's Saturday. Usually I wake up earlier than this -even on the weekends- but I've been too tired lately. I've just fallen back into a regular sleep schedule. I mean, this is the first time in months I've been able to fall asleep without worrying that some type of Freddy Kruger guy is going to come after me. Creepy. I shudder slightly at the thought, absently snuggling Serge a bit closer.

I turn over to my side -away from the alarm clock- and stare at the empty space against my wall where my computer desk used to be. God, that was a disaster! My parents did eventually come into my room. I had most of the stuff cleaned up though. They did, however, question me about the whereabouts of my desk, and how come there was a giant hole in my closet. I explained to them that I gave the desk to the homeless and that there was a hole in my closet because I tripped while I was carrying the desk **to **the homeless. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually they believed me. I'm not allowed to have any more desks, though, so now my computer is sitting underneath the window on the floor, my stereo beside it, along with all of my school books. Slade told me that my room had a nice flow.

You may be wondering why Slade was even in my room. It's not what your thinking! He was giving me a ride home from one of our tutoring sessions, and -being the gentleman that he is- walked me to the door. Well, my ma met him, and she was ecstatic that I made a new friend -once I assured her that he wasn't on the drugs…I swear- that she invited him to stay for dinner. I gave him the grand tour of the house, and I **did **have to go to my room to put my backpack up. He commented on how I was such a neat freak, and laughed when he saw the hole in the closet. I don't think he bought my whole 'I gave a desk to the needy' story, but he didn't say anything else.

And nothing happened. I don't know if I'm happy about that fact or not at the moment, but nothing happened. Well, he did stay for dinner, and he and my papa got into a heated debate about some type of computer stuff. (1) It was all, megabytes this and hard drive that. I think I was right; Slade **is **a genius. Anyway, he ended up actually getting along with my parents. He even made them laugh! I walked him out to his car and he told me how great my parents were. **Great**. He actually said that. Usually people comment on how weird or paranoid they are -they're not **really **paranoid, they just worry about 'their precious baby Marco'- but never that their great. He didn't even bring up the subject about me not having come out to them yet -I'm sure he must have known it- only said that he had a nice time, and that he'd have to have me over to his place for dinner sometime.

It uh…sounded more suggestive when he said it. Maybe I really **am **a pervert, but I could have swore he was hitting on me. I think he's trying to seduce me. Not that I mind, or anything.

Idiot.

I jump slightly, banging my head against the head board. "Mozzy!" I yell, pushing myself up. Still clutching Serge tightly, I look down at her, glaring. "What was that for?"

You thought that boy who came over here Thursday is trying to seduce you? Honestly…

I frown at her. "It's only a thought, you know. Besides, it's not that far fetched."

Right. I think you should spend more time working on your studies then some slutty boy.

"He's not a slut!" I say in Slade's defense. "He's a really nice guy, and I like him. And there might be a chance he likes me, too. Do you realize how long it's been since I've…"

Got laid?

"…had a crush," I finish, continuing to glare at her. "Especially one who might be crushing on me back."

All right, fine. But study the craft first, pretty boys later, agreed?

I nod to her, sighing a bit as I raise my hand and rub the back of my hand. She shakes her head and crawls up to me, settling herself into her lab.

Your so fragile, Rom Baro.

"I am not fragile," I retort indignantly.

Yes you are. We should work on that. Hey, maybe you should get one of those Bowflex things they show on the TV. Or a Body by Jake. Or Taebo.

I stare down at her blankly. "…I should really stop letting you watch so much TV." I rub the back of her head, causing her to let a small purr of approval. "So, what do you want to do today?"

You should start working on some more elements. Your air control is pretty good, but you need to stop using it as a personal AC. Water needs work.

"Hey, I'm pretty good at water."

Other than making whirlpools, honestly. You really are a child. Plus you need to work on fire and earth too. We also need to go shopping for some more spell and potion ingredients. I found a great herbal shop downtown. We should go there today.

I nod, yawning slightly. "Right. Shopping. I can do that. Just give me an hour or so. I need something to eat, plus I need a shower." She climbs off of my lap and I stand up, stretching my arms above my head. I pat my bare stomach when I hear it growling slightly. I make my way over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of blue jeans, some boxers, a long sleeved navy blue sweater, and a Downtown Sasquatch t-shirt -Ellie and Craig helped me put them together. Their very nice, actually- and head to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

I step into the bathroom and lay my clothes out on the counter. With another soft yawn, I begin removing my boxers -the only thing I decided to sleep in last night- and let them drop to the floor. (a/n: Like your not picturing it…) I walk over to the shower and turn a few of the knobs, getting the water a nice lukewarm before I step inside. The warm water beats down on my skin, soothing my muscles. I rotate my shoulders once or twice, sighing in pure bliss. Opening my eyes -and pushing away some dark hair which has been matted to my forehead- I grab a bottle of shampoo and begin washing my hair, humming slightly as I do. Don't look at me like that; I know I'm not the only one who sings in the shower.

"Total slaughter

Total slaughter

I won't leave a single man alive

La de da de di

Genocide

La de da de dud

An ocean of blood

Let's begin the killing time." (2)

I repeat the verse over and over again absently, now reaching for the apple body scrub I got a few days ago. I know, the lyrics are horrible, but it's a catchy little tune. It's from Trigun, or something like that. I was staying up late one night -nightmares, of course- and was flipping through the channels when I came across Cartoon Network. There were showing this weird show about a half demon or something -I was watching for the psycho older brother who was trying to kill him. Sessh something or other- and then this other weird show came on after it. (3) There was this cute blond guy, and he sung that song. I kind of got it stuck in my head. With a sigh, I begin the verse again.

"Total slaughter

Total slaughter

I won't leave a…"

I trail off when I feel something cold brushing against my back. I blink, my breathing becoming slightly heavier when I look down to make sure that I didn't accidentally turn one of the knobs or something. They haven't been.

I shake my head, laughing nervously to myself. God, I **am **paranoid. Sighing a little bit, I start the song again.

"I won't leave a single man alive

La de da de di…"

There is a ruffling sound that comes from outside of the shower, causing me to stop abruptly. I turn towards the shower curtain, backing away slightly. "H-hello?" I call out softly. "Mozzy, are you out there? Mama? Papa?" I ask.

There's nothing but silence. That doesn't make any sense. I could have swore that I just heard someone out there. With a sigh I raise my hand, rubbing my forehead before I move back underneath the shower head. It's just my mind playing tricks on me. No one is here. I'm just tired; that's all.

Suddenly I feel something, hear it, _smell _it; warm breath on my neck, a hand running through my drenched hair, a bare chest pressing to mine, the scent of cinnamon invading my senses. No…not again. Please no…not him…

"Genocide," sings a soft, hushed voice, right beside my ear, warm lips brushing against my jaw line as fingertips caress my collar bone. "La de da de dud, an ocean of blood. Let's begin," it -no, **he**- sings, and I can feel him smirking against my skin. I let out a soft groan of pain as the soft touch turns rough, razor fingernails digging into the skin of my chest. "The killing time."

I whimper softly, raising my hands in a feeble attempt to push this unseen attacker away. There is a chuckle, and suddenly I feel myself being pushed against the wall. I strike out blindly, trying to hit him. He laughs again.

"Get away from me!" I yell, trying to struggle, even as he catches my hands and pins them above my head. "Let me go!"

"You are mine, Marco," he whispers in my ear before planting a kiss on my shoulder. I wince, feeling sharp teeth graze against my flesh.

"No! No…don't…please…just leave me alone!" I cry out, still trying to get my shoulder away from the teeth. It hurts…I feel warm blood on my chest and shoulder, rushing down; I hear his chuckling as I continue to fight him, praying to God that he will leave. "Just let me go…"

And suddenly, he's gone.

My wrists fall to my sides and I open my eyes, once again seeing nothing but an empty shower. I quickly turn the water off, scampering out of the shower as quickly as possible. I reach out for my towel, wrapping it around my waist and moving towards the sink, grabbing my clothes and pulling them closer to me. Shaking, I look up in the mirror, only to find that my bloody chest is no more. I let my clothes drop to the floor carelessly as I raise a trembling hand to trace my chest and stomach, seeing no wounds or blood.

No, that can't be right! I know someone was here. **He **was here. It was so real…there was so much pain…My breathing stops completely as my gaze travels from my chest to my shoulder blade, right where that creep bit me.

There are teeth marks right where my shoulder blade and neck meet, a few drops of blood mixing with the trail of water that runs down my arm.

Well…crap.

-

Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure! Did you hear me screaming in the shower?

Well, I heard something about genocide, oceans of blood, and then you were screaming something like 'no, no!' and making these noises. You are one twisted little puppy, you know that Rom Baro?

I sigh heavily, shaking my head and rolling my eyes as Mozzy and I continue walking down the street. I glance around, my eyes scanning the few people who are walking near us. It's not unusual to see a boy and a cat walking down the sidewalk, but if said boy begins screaming at the cat about the crazy invisible guy who attacked him the shower…well…you get the point.

He was there. Didn't you see my shoulder?

Calm down, I believe you.

I blink down at her a bit. _You do? _I ask.

She nods as we round a corner. _Yes, I do. I had a feeling that this man would attack you outside of your dreams. I was just waiting for my suspicions to be confirmed._

And you couldn't have warned me about this because…? I question her irritably, reached into my jacket pocket and pulling out a crumpled map. Let's see, we turned right back at Degrassi street, made a left on Harvard, made another left on Yale…

Because I just didn't, all right. You are going to have trust my judgment. You may be in more danger than I first thought. I think I know why this man may want you so badly.

Why is that? I ask idly, still surveying the small map. Mozzy and I have been traveling from shop to shop, picking up herbs and other ingredients. She's been trying to get me to visit the Magic Shop -which is only a few blocks from my house- but I just can't go in there. Someone -a friend of my parents, if not my ma or papa themselves- could see me. I'll go another time. Like, when it's darker; say around midnight.

Well at first I was confused as to why someone would want to corrupt you and bring you to a dark coven. It's not as if it takes a lot of power to invade someone's dreams, just patience. I was wondering what you had that would make someone willing to spend all this time and energy on you. I mean, your not all that strong, and…

Gee, thanks. Your doing **wonders **for myself esteem. Can you please get to the point?

I think this person has chosen you as a partner.

Um…what?

How to put this more simply...? This man has chosen you, for reasons that are unknown to myself, as an apprentice; someone who he will teach his trade, someone who will ultimately become his 'sidekick' as you call it, and his lover. Well, most likely anyway, by the way you describe the attack in the shower.

"**HIS LOVER**?!" I screech with wide eyes. The few people on the street turn to me, staring blankly. A few angry mothers place there hands over their children's ears, while an elderly lady gives me a disapproving glare. Another man, around his forties, gives me a kind of creepy leer. I blush and look away from them. Glancing down at my map, I make sure I know exactly which route I'm taking before I begin jogging towards the next herbal shop, the one Mozzy originally wanted to take me to.

We reach it about ten minutes later, both of us somewhat out of breath. I survey the outside of it the shop, looking in through the glass at the bottles and boxes that fill the shop window.

Nice going, she informs me sarcastically as I push open the glass door, a jingling filling the shop as we enter. I am very tempted to allow the door to slam back on her tail, but I decide against it.

Be quiet. Are you serious?

I can't answer you if you want me to be quiet.

Do you have to take everything so literally? I ask her, shaking my head slightly as we enter. Absently I begin looking around, flipping my map over, revealing the list of things I'll need.

Yes.

Fine then. Please, tell me if your serious.

Of course I'm serious. I wouldn't lie to you about something this important.

I nod slightly, knowing that she's telling the truth. _This is just to creepy. First I think this guy is going to kill me, and now I find out that he wants to corrupt me._

In more ways than one, she adds.

"Perverted hell cat," I mutter, causing her to hiss at me.

"May I help you?" a voice says from behind me. I turn, seeing whom it was who spoke. I see the store manager -I'm guessing- looking at me. He smiles softly, causing the small wrinkles near his eyes to become even more obvious. He has black hair -I can't tell the length, since it is pull back, into a braid I think- and dark eyes, almost the same color as his hair. He's wearing a dark red button down shirt and black slacks. I'm guessing he's somewhere in his very late thirties to early forties.

"Yeah," I tell him, handing him the crumpled map. "I'm looking for some of this stuff. They didn't have it anywhere else," I inform him.

He takes it, still giving me a warm smile, and scans his dark eyes over the list. He looks back up at me, his smile a bit more -mischievous?- and brighter than before.

"Another witch," he says happily, and I nearly fall backwards with surprise. "Come with me." I nod dumbly, glancing down at Mozzy before I begin to follow him. He looks back at me, chuckling softly. "You can bring your familiar as well. I know her, Mozol is a good girl. A bit rude at times though."

He hasn't changed a bit, she informs happily as she begins trotting beside me. My mouth opens slightly and I look between them, blinking.

"You know each other?" I ask.

"Of course," he answers. "Mozol didn't tell you?" he asks, looking down at her with a shake of a head. "She always was a sneaking little girl. Trying to keep secrets from her charges."

"Secrets?"

"Oh, nothing too big. Just the connections she has and things. By the way, my name is Rajko. It's nice to meet you…?"

He is watching me, and I stare at him. Suddenly I realize he must be waiting for me to introduce myself. "I'm Marco Del Rossi, nice to meet you. So um…Rajko. Is that gypsy to?"

"Romany," he corrects as we walk up to a large, cherry wood door. He pulls out some keys, jangling them a bit before he unlocks the door. "And yes, it is. Ah, here we go," he says, swinging the door open and moving aside, motioning for Mozzy and I to enter.

"What's in there?" I ask curiously, stepped in through the entry way.

"Just specific herbs, ingredients, a few spell books; stuff I don't really like the public to see. I'm sure Mozol can help you around."

I nod to him in thanks, giving him a smile as I turn and begin looking through some of things. "Oh hey, Rajko," I call as he turns to leave.

"Yes?"

"What does Rom Baro mean?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Does she call you that?" he questions, motioning down towards Mozzy. I nod in the affirmative. He laughs again. "You should be more kind to your charges, Mozol. But I am glad to see you aren't still caught up in the old language. It is good that you are learning to use the new phrases." (4) He turns his attention back to me, and I merely blink at him in confusion. _Don't pay any attention to her, _he tells me mentally, and I blink again.

A-all right. Can all gyps…I mean, people that are Romany use mind speak?

Not all, but many can. Just don't tell Mozol I've been using it with you. She'll scratch my eyes out! He chuckles good naturedly again and walks away, leaving Mozzy and I alone in the back room. I look down at her, glaring.

"One of these days, I **will **find out what that means."

-

Rajko's shop was really helpful, actually. We got tons of stuff, and I even got another spell book; I'd found one, with Mozzy's help, but this one is better, and has more advanced spells and rituals. Rajko himself was pretty cool. Wish I would have gotten **him **as a familiar.

You wound me so, Rom Baro. You really do.

I glare at her, taking a sip of my vanilla shake. We decided to stop at the Dot before we went home, since I was really hungry. I skipped breakfast after the shower incident. Which still has me shivering a bit. I hope Mozzy and me find this guy soon; I don't know if I can take being this jumpy.

"Marco?"

I look up, a wide grin spreading across my features. "Hey Spinner," I say. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing," he says, setting a large bag of take out on the corner of the table. I raise an eyebrow and he looks down at the bag, shrugging a bit. "I'm bringing it to Paige. She wasn't feeling well this weekend."

I wrap a few fingers around the side of the bag, pulling back the paper and peering inside. "Yeah. I'm sure a cheeseburger and some fries will really make her feel better."

"She asked, all right," he tells me. "She's been kind of…I don't know lately. I think she's mad at me about something, but I don't know what."

His face falters slightly, and I can tell that there might be something more behind that story. If he wants to tell me, he will; he knows I'm here for him. "Why don't you pull up a chair," I suggest. "Sit with me for a while."

He smiles a bit, nodding. "Kay," he says, reaching back and pulling a chair up -I wince along with the rest of people in the restaurant at the sound of iron bars being pulled across the tile- and swinging it around, sitting down with his arms swung around the back. "So how's…is that a cat?" he questions blinking.

I look over to see Mozzy -sitting in her seat across from me- staring at Spinner blankly. "Oh yeah," I tell him. "This is Mozzy."

"Since when did you have a cat?"

"A while now," I tell him. "I uh…found her on the street and brought her home with me."

"Oh," he says. He smiles and reaches out to pet her. She merely hisses at him, giving him an evil glare. He sticks his tongue out at her as he pulls his hand back. "Not very friendly, is she?"

"You have to get to know her."

Who's this Dilli? (5)

I raise an eyebrow, not sure what that name means. "This is my best friend Spinner," I inform her.

He looks at me strangely. "Dude, what are you doing?"

"Introducing you to my cat," I inform him matter of factly.

He blinks. "…**right**." Shaking his head he reaches out, grabbing the bag of food. He stands up and turns the chair back around, once again placing it at it's original table. "I have to go. Paige is gonna kill me if I'm late."

"All right," I say, extending my hand. He slaps it, and we both fist out hands, punching them together before he turns to leave. "See 'ya later."

"Yeah, bye man!"

I look over at Mozzy, who has her head tilted to the side. _What was that strange hand shake you did with that boy? Some type of mating thing?_

What is with you? Why am I surrounded with perverts?

Well, what was it?

It was just a handshake, no mating!

So…you do not wish to mate with that Spinner?

I groan and roll my eyes, allowing my head to hit the table. _No, _I tell her.

Well, judging by the way he was so worried, it seems that he and this Paige person are having problems. It looks as if you were worried as well.

I am, sort of. I mean, Spinner is my best friend, and he cares for Paige a lot. It would kill him if they broke up, I say, realizing that he's among the hand full of my friends who are having relationship problems. I blink, an idea slowly forming in my mind. A grin begins to spread across my face. _Hey Mozzy, you know how you told me I needed to make some more potions?_

…why am I suddenly afraid?

Well…I just thought of one.

---

(1) In 'It's Raining Men' Marco's dad says that his company is making those freaky posters. I don't know what he does exactly, but it seems like it might have something to do with computers.

(2) That song is the Genocide Song, sung by Vash the Stampede in the lovely anime Trigun. It's really funny; Vash is like this peace loving guy who wouldn't even kill evil sand worms, and he sings **that **song to scare people.

(3) The show about the half-demon is Inuyasha, another anime. I'm obsessed with anime so I end up referencing it in everything I write. I could see Marco -if he was an insomniac- stumbling onto it, and watching to see Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru is an extremely pretty man, with nice long silver hair and a big fluffy! Fluffy like a boa, perverts.

(4) Rom Baro, as I said, means chief or big man. The saying for chief or big man has always been around, but Rom Baro was only used after World War II. I figured that Mozzy, even though she is old, would start using the newer versions of things.

(5) Dilli -I think I spelled it right, my stupid computer won't let me get to my Romany reference page!- means 'retarded' or 'idiot'. Heh.

This chapter was fun to write. Especially the shower scene. I love my psycho evil guy.

Marco: I don't! Every time he's in there he keeps cutting me up.

I know! It's such great fun. Anyway, this chapter turned out differently then plotted, but I liked it anyway. Please review!


	6. Chapter Six: Love Potion Number Nine

Disclaimer: I own my original characters, Marco's stuffed tiger, and the dagger. I used to own Slade's car, but someone stole it so he couldn't drive around to see Marco anymore.

Spinner: -whistles innocently-

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Important Warnings: This chapter involves LOTS of slash, Marco getting molested, out of character-ness (the results of a spell), femslash (yay!), and bad language.

Author's Notes: Look at all these reviews! Wow! I'm so happy!

Almost-never: I know, I know! There are no supernatural ficcies for Degrassi. It's wrong! Thank you for reviewing, it means a lot when people do that. Dylan/Marco **is **wonderful, and hey, the Cure! Whoo! They rock my socks. It's so cool their making a comeback.

Enigmus: -giggles- All right, their gonna get together, soon kay? Just be somewhat patient. Thank you for reviewing!

Fox eye: I don't know if there are any AU Degrassi, at least I don't think there are any slash ones. -sigh- Ah, and how can you say Slade is evil! He's too pretty to be evil! -giggles- I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Just-nikki: Me and my friend tried to do mind speak a few times. The weird thing was, one time we were trying to read each other's minds, and it actually worked! I know, I love Mozzy too! I'll be waiting for my cookie! Hope you enjoy this chap, cause as I sure as heck did.

KinseySix: Hey, I know you too! -laughs- I was all like giddy last night because I saw you had reviewed, so I had to write another chapter. And gosh, are Marco and I the only ones who like Slade? So sad! Heh…there's Ellie/Paige fun in this chapter! Oh yeah and everyone, go read her story 'Wonders'. And while your at it, read 'Pretty Girl' too. Well…after you've reviewed this…

Cyanide Anytime: I like your name. It has a nice…ring to it. Thank you for the kind review, so here is the next chapter!

Tiffany: You put it on your favorites list? -eyes water- Oh, thank you! I love it when people do that! Makes me feel all warm and toasty inside, like a marshmallow. -shakes head- That was a strange analogy. Anyway, thanks, hope you like this chapter.

Seven reviews, most I've gotten. Thank you guys! Next chapter is here!

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Chapter Six: Love Potion Number Nine

__

I can't believe I let you talk me into this spell, Rom Baro.

"I can't believe I let you talk **me **into this outfit!"

__

What's wrong with your outfit? I think you look pretty fly for a white guy. (1)

"…"

__

What?

"All right, one, I am **not **white. I'm Italian. And two…did you just quote an Offspring song?"

__

Is that bad?

"No…it's just…well…never mind!" I shake my head slightly. "That wasn't the point of the conversation."

__

Then what **was **the point?

"The point is that this costume makes me look ridiculous!" I cry in frustration. She merely tilts her head to the side, staring at me.

__

How so? she asks, her voice holding fair amounts of annoyance and anger.

I blink at her, since the flaws of this costume are so obvious it doesn't take a genius to point them out. When all she does is blink at me, I sigh, realizing that I actually **am **going to have to explain why this is so utterly ridiculous that I can not possibly be seen in public wearing this costume.

Or rather…lack there of.

I'm wearing a red sleeveless top, with a black leather vest over it. What's even worse about them -besides the fact that they fit like a second skin- is that they stop just below my naval. Which, all right, wouldn't be so bad if the red -yes, leather, yes, skin tight- didn't seem to be riding so low on my hips. I found some old, clunky, black boots to go with this costume…thing. There is a leather band around my forehead, my black hair brushed out over it so you can only see it in the front. On the side of my belt is a plastic sword, which actually looks pretty real. The handle is golden -painted gold, but you know what I mean- adorned with emeralds and rubies all around it.

"This is too tight. And look at these pants! I can barely move in this thing! And what's with the deal around my head? What am I supposed to **be**?!"

__

It's not too tight, Rom Baro, so calm down. I think you may have just gotten it one size too small, or something. Maybe your just fat…

I look down at her, a glare on my features as I scowl. "I am not fat…and again you blame this on me. I didn't pick this out," I remind her. She yawns and waves her paw at me carelessly, signaling that this conversation is over. I **knew **I shouldn't have let her pick out my costume. I knew it, knew it, knew it! But what did I do? I let her pick it out anyway!

It was on the day we went out to get some new spell ingredients. After running into Spin at the Dot, I decided on what spell I could do, something that I could use for practice **and **something that could help out my friends. Mozzy kept going on about how a love spell would blow up in our faces, and I tried to convince her that it wouldn't, but she just wouldn't listen to me! So…I bargained with her. If she let me do the spell, she could pick out my costume for the Halloween dance. I don't know **why **she wanted to pick out my costume, she just did. I guess I was just to pre-occupied with the fact that I would be doing a real spell to notice what she picked out for me.

I shake my head, frowning as I grab the bottom of my shirt and pull, attempting to make it cover the rest of my abdomen. I let out a small groan of frustration when it just **barely **moves. I can hardly breath in this thing!

"What am I supposed to be?" I ask her again, still fiddling with the pants and tank top, trying to move one up or down in hopes of hiding some more skin.

__

A type of warrior. I thought you would like it. You're always watching that Hercules show.

"I don't even know if Radidge will even let me in like this."

__

You look fine! Now, hurry up and get your things, or you'll be late.

"Right," I say, sighing as I give myself another glance in the mirror. I walk over towards the window, kneeling down so I can reach the small caldron -yes I have a caldron, laugh it up, but it comes in handy- sitting on the floor. I grab a clear, plastic bottle that has been sitting beside it and carefully -very, very, **very **carefully; it's extremely difficult to get potions out of the carpet- poor the light red substance inside. Once the bottle is filled, I quickly grab the cap and put it on, tightening it as much as I can; wouldn't want this stuff spilling out everywhere. I stand up, clutching the bottle in my right hand. Suddenly a frown begins tugging at my lips as I realize that I have nowhere to put this. I mean, I can't very well just walk into school holding a bottle of suspicious liquid in my hands, can I? I sigh heavily as I also realize that this costume doesn't exactly have a place for this. "Now what am I supposed to do?"

Mozzy walks over to me, settling down on her hind legs right at my feet. _You could always leave the potion here…_

"Uh-uh, no way. I'm wearing this stupid…ow!…stop scratching me! I'm wearing this…interesting…costume, so I get the potion."

__

All right. I still can't believe I am allowing you to do this.

"Why?" I ask, tilting my head to the side as I begin kneeling down to her level. "I mean, it's not like I'm using it for myself. I'm using it to help my friends. A few drops of this, and their love problems will be solved!"

__

Fine, she says, sounding irritated. _You should take a jacket or something, that way you can hide the bottle in a pocket or something._

"Thanks girl," I say patting her head lightly. I stand up, rushing over to my closet and swing one of the doors open carefully, since it **does **have a hole in it and everything. I scan my eyes over the clothing, finally deciding on a simple black jacket. Well, not simple actually, since it has fur -fake fur, of course- around the hood and sleeves, but come on, what kind of jacket goes with this costume? I grab it and throw it on, pocketing the bottle in the front pocket. I turn around to see Mozzy hissing -a hissing that sounds suspiciously like laughter- and rolling on the floor. "Shut up," I tell her. I glare when she continues -she is laughing, I know it!- and walk to the door. Turning slightly before I go, I tell her "And don't worry. I mean, what could **possibly** go wrong?"

-

I made it through the front door all right. I got some weird glances, and some cat calls, and I think that someone just grabbed my ass a few moments ago, but other than that, everything is perfect. I look over the crowd of costume clad teens, smiling to myself when I find the table where Paige, Jimmy, Spinner, Craig and Hazel are sitting. I look around for Ellie, but she's no where to be found. She better be here, since she promised me she was coming. Besides, she's one of the people I'm fixing up.

One of the **many **people I'm fixing up, actually.

She and Sean along with Craig and Ashley, Jimmy and Hazel, and Spinner and Paige. I know Spin and Paige are already together, but he seemed kind of worried or distracted about something at the Dot. It seems like the two of them have been drifting apart lately. I don't want that to him to him. I mean, he's my best friend, I hate it when he's sad. So it is my job to make sure that he gets the love of his life.

Frowning slightly, I realize I should be more gung-ho about this whole thing, but I'm not. I should be happy about this, right? I'm fixing up my best friend, making sure he gets the girl of his dreams to stay with him. Could I be…jealous? No, no! I can't be jealous! Spinner loves Paige, Paige loves Spinner, their soul mates. And I don't want…Spinner. He's like, a brother, or something. I shake my head, laughing at myself softly. Jealous. Ha! I have my own crush. I don't want Spinner. I don't. Stop accusing me of things!

I walk over to their table, waving slightly when Spinner looks up to see me. He blinks -in shock, I think- as I trot up to their table. "Hey guys," I say to them, gaining a few hey backs in response. Spinner is still staring at me. His eyes travel from the band around my forehead right to the tip of my boots, then back again. I blush slightly, pulling my jacket even closer to me.

"Stop gawking at him, hun," Paige says. He yelps and quickly pulls his knee closer to his body, so I'm assuming that just kicked him. Don't get me wrong, I feel bad for him, but it serves him right for staring at me like that!

"Uh…dude…what are you supposed to be?" Jimmy asks.

"I'm a warrior," I tell them sheepishly, suddenly finding the gym floor **extremely **interesting.

"A warrior with," Spinner begins, flicking the end of my jacket, "faux fur?"

"W-well yeah. I'm a warrior from…Alaska!"

"…right. You look more like a male hooker."

"Oh just…what are you?" I ask him, trying desperately to get the subject off of myself.

He gives me a grin and says, "I'm a soldier." He gestures to the dark green t-shirt he is wearing, the camouflage pants, and the black boots. He even has a green bandana tied around his head. I smile softly, since he **does **kind of look like a soldier; especially with those dog tags.

Jimmy, I assume, is a policeman, Paige is a mermaid -the skirt is made like tail, and she has on what looks more like a sports bra, but what she insists is authentic mer-wear-, Hazel is a gypsy -I resist the urge to tell her that no self respecting gypsy woman **ever **wears red, except for when they are married, but I couldn't really explain how I know that. What do I tell her? My cat informs me of all the gypsy customs?- and Craig is…I don't really know what Craig is. I tilt my head to the side, frowning at him. He notices me staring and sighs.

"Why do I have to tell everyone? I'm Adam, the AFI pirate!" (2)

"…o-oh," I say, nodding my head as if I see the resemblance.

"Dude, how many times do I have to tell you; Adam isn't a pirate!" Spinner says, knocking him on the head with his toy gun.

"Ow. He is too! I read it on an AFI message board! Besides…Marco looks weirder than I do…"

"No I don't," I retort, feeling myself blush slightly. "It's not my fault. Mozzy's the one who picked it out anyway…"

"Isn't Mozzy your cat?" Spinner asks in confusion.

All eyes turn to me and I shrug, giving them a nervous smile. "Um…I uh…well…who's thirsty?!" I question, standing up abruptly. "Good. I'll just go get us all some drinks!" I tell them brightly, never even giving anyone a chance to inform me to whether or not they really are thirsty.

I rush over to the concession table and grab some plastic cups, mentally thanking God that the punch is red anyway. I pour about four cups -one for Craig, Sean, Jimmy and Paige, because their really the ones who need the extra push to start the relationship- and, scanning around to make sure no one is looking over here, I reach for the bottle. Now, after I put a few drops of this in, whoever drinks it will find it impossible to be away from the girl/guy they have feelings for. So, obviously, Craig will go to Ash, Sean to Ellie, Jimmy to Hazel, and Paige to Spin. It's a flawless plan!

"Need some help?"

I squeak, nearly spilling the entire potion out onto the table as I jump up. I turn around, narrowing my eyes slightly as Spinner grins at me. "You didn't have to sneak up on me like that!" I tell him, a bit embarassed that he startled me.

He just smiles. "I wasn't sneaking. Just thought you might need some help with this."

I sigh, realizing that I should just send him back, since I can't let him see me putting the potion into the drinks; even if some help with all these cups **would **be nice. I turn towards him, prepared to tell him to get away, only to see his gaze somewhere besides my face.

"Spin?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. He pulls his eyes away to meet my gaze. "Were you looking at my sword?"

His eyes widen and he gulps, shaking his head quickly. "What? No!"

"Are you sure? I could have swore you were…"

"It's just your imagination!" he tells me, his voice cracking slightly as he scratches the back of his head nervously.

I blink at him in confusion, then smile. "You want to play with my sword, don't you Spinner?" He cheeks redden slightly, and I can't help but laugh at the flushed expression on his face. "If you wanted it all you had to do was ask! Here you go…"

"No! Marco I do **not **want to play with your sword! I don't want anything to do with your sword!" he yells loudly. A few people turn and look at us strangely. He notices and glares at them, causing them all to turn back around.

"You're kind of weird, you know that Spin?" I ask him, laughing as I pull the fake sword out of my hilt. I hand it to him. He looks down at it, staring blankly and blinking a few times in confusion. "You wanted my sword, right?"

"Oh…**that **sword…I um…" He snatches it quickly, then turns around, mumbling how 'I can get my own damn drinks' under his breath.

I merely blink at him. All right…that was odd. Wonder what got Spinner so flushed? Oh well. I grab the bottle and pour the potion into them quickly, screwing the top back on the bottle as soon as I do. I grab them and head over to the table, smiling at them…and a still blushing Spinner. I give him a weird look as I hand Craig, Jimmy and Paige their drinks.

"Here you go!"

"I'll take that one," Hazel says, reaching forwards for the cup.

"Um…no. You can't have this one!"

"Why not?"

"Because…it's uh…it's contaminated. I have to go back and get some more!" I nod and hurry back to the table, shaking my head. God I hope this works. When I get there, I see Sean -who is dressed up in his usual clothing, wonder what he's supposed to be? A wanna be rapper?- standing there, looking over the crowd. "Hey!" I tell him brightly. "You know, you look thirsty. Here…drink some of this!" I say, handing him the cup.

He looks down at it, then back up at me, giving me a strange glance. "No thanks," he says. "I'm busy."

"Looking for Ellie?" I ask him knowingly. He doesn't say anything, so I shove the drunk in his hands. "Come on, you know that they say."

"No, what do they say?" he asks me, obviously not amused.

I blink at him, opening my mouth once or twice. "Uh…you can't get the girl…unless you've uh…drunk your punch?" I say hopefully.

He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp from the drink. I smile, extremely proud of myself. I turn, looking back over at our table to make sure that everyone is drinking their punch. I see Dylan over there, and smile sadly as I watch him sipping on a cup of punch. I think the others are drinking their stuff, but I can't tell. I turn back, grabbing another plastic cup so I can pour the rest of them -and myself- a drink. I still need to find Ellie, too.

"Hey…" Sean says, and I glance back at him. "You know, this dance is getting really lame. How about you and I…you know…just get outta here?"

I blink at him, raising an eyebrow. "Me and you? But I thought you wanted to look for Ellie…?" I ask him, confused. He shakes his head and takes a step forward, grinning as he puts the cup down.

"I think I've changed my mind…" he whispers before reaching up and grabbing my jacket, pulling me closer to him. My eyes widen and I quickly place my hands on his chest, pushing him away.

"Uh…I gotta jet!" I turn around and begin scampering towards the boys wash room. What was that? Was it just my imagination or was Sean about to…kiss me? Well he **seemed **like it. I reach the wash room and swing the door open, looking myself over in the mirror. "It's gotta be the costume…" I mumble to myself as I slide my jacket it off and lay it on the counter. I shake my head, sighing softly as I run a hand through my hair.

"Marco?" I hear a voice question. I turn, smiling when I see Craig in the door way. He returns the smile and steps inside, walking over to me.

"Hey," I tell him. "Man…you scared me at first. I thought you were someone else…"

"Who?" he asks me.

I just shake my head, continuing to smile at him. "No one," I say. I glance up at the clock, blinking when I see that it's already been about fifteen minutes since I gave them all their drinks. The spell should be working by now…

I look up to see Craig staring at me. I give him a little smile and reach for my coat, beginning to head out of the door. "See 'ya in there, man," I tell him. I take a few steps, only to feel a hand being wrapped around my wrist. I yelp when I'm pulled back, then pressed against the outside of one the bathroom stalls. "Uh…C-Craig?" I ask him timidly.

He grins at me, raising a hand to brush away a few locks of hair. "I don't know how I didn't see it before…" he murmurs.

"See w-what before? Craig? What are you doing?" I say, trying not to sound to freaked out…which I am.

"You," he answers, and suddenly the hand that was resting all nice and docile by his side rises up, running his fingertips over the exposed skin of my abdomen. "Your beautiful…" he whispers and leans forward, his lips mere inches from mine. I try desperately to move my head away, lifting my hands so that I can push him off of me.

"Get. Away. From. Him."

We both look towards the door to see Jimmy standing there. I sigh in relief. Thank God! He's here to save me….I hope.

Craig glares at him and tightens his grip on me. "No," he says. "Now go away!"

"No way. Marco's mine."

What? Oh man…this must have something to do with the spell! I must have screwed it some how…and now they want me. I knew I shouldn't have been cheap and gotten the jasmine instead of sage! Or it really **is **costume….I'm betting on the potion. Oh…well…damn!

Jimmy begins stalking forwards, his eyes fixed on Craig's as he does. Craig looks back at me, giving me a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry," he says, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "I won't let him get you!"

He then turns towards Jimmy, both of them looking as if their about to rip each others heads off. Crap. I did mess the spell up. This is bad. Very, very bad!

"Step off my sex slave, bitches!" Sean yells as he swings the door open and rushes inside.

I blink at them all. Did he just call me his sex slave? What the hell?!

"He's **my **sex slave," Craig tells him.

"No, he's mine!" Jimmy says.

Sex slave? Where do these people get this crap anyway?! Soon they have all jumped each other. There are punches being thrown here and there, yelps and insults and 'no, he's my sex slave' echoing throughout the wash room. I watch them in horror, then suddenly I understand that while their fighting, I have a chance to escape. Maybe I can run home and fix this thing.

I begin heading towards the door again, quietly this time, making sure that they all continue to bash each other so they don't notice I'm getting away. I finally reach the door, my hand inching towards it slowly, until I wrap my fingers around the lever.

"Where is he?" Dylan -who is adorned in a grey business suit and black tie- shouts as he throws the door open, causing me to jump backwards quickly. He drunk it too, didn't he? Great…just great! He must have gotten some of Paige's drink. SHIT!

He looks at me, smiling happily. I give him a pitiful look, hoping he might take sympathy on me.

He doesn't.

I yelp when two strong arms are wrapped around my waist, throwing me over Dylan's shoulder. "Don't worry," he says, patting me on the back. I yelp again as his hand wanders to my ass, giving it a quick squeeze before he begins heading out the door. "Everything will be just fine. I'll take you home, and we can watch some TV, then I can get out those handcuffs I've been saving…"

"If anyone is going to chain him up, it will be me!" Craig yells defiantly. I look down to see him lunging towards Dylan's legs. I peer down at him, and he gives me a grin before moving in for the kill and biting down on Dylan's ankle.

Dylan growls and drops me on the ground. I fall -butt first, ouch!- on the ground, and hit my head against one hand dryers. I cry out in pain, wincing when I finally hit the tiled floor. Oh…God…that hurt! I think I hit every major bone in my body, my head is pounding like a jack hammer, and this floor is like…really sticky. Don't they ever mop in here? Honestly…!

I look up through teary eyes -hey, that was **really **painful, and you try being molested and being called a sex slave without wanting to cry- to see Jimmy, Sean, Craig and now Dylan **still **fighting. I sniffle, tears of frustration spilling onto my cheeks.

Suddenly, the door to the wash room opens again. I look up, to see Spinner walking into the wash room. Spinner! He can save me! He didn't drink anything. He couldn't have. He stares at the group of fighting boys, then looks down at me. "Marco? Why are you crying?" he asks.

"I only wanted to help!" I say, the tears coming faster now. "I wanted to make everyone feel better so I…and then it messed up…and they were molesting me and c-c-calling me their sex slave and then Dylan…and Craig…and now my ass hurts!"

All right…um…probably not the **best** way to thread that sentence together, but I'm somewhat hysterical, all right. Spinner's eyes blaze and he looks at them all, and suddenly I realize just how wrong that all sounded.

"Wait Spin, they didn't…"

"You bastards!" he screams, causing them all to stop fighting -well most of them do, but Jimmy still continues to punch Dylan in the stomach- and look at him. "I'll kill you all!"

Damn, damn, damn, damn! I bang my head against the back of the wall, then cry out in pain, suddenly remembering that I have a minor head injury. I look at the boys to see Spinner jumping on Craig's back, his hands wrapped around his neck. I think Spinner might **actually **kill them. This is **so **not good.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

I look up to see Paige, Ashley, and Ellie enter the room. Ashley is wearing a skin tight black dress, and I smile. Morticia Adams; good choice for her! I look at Ellie's outfit, slightly confused. She's wearing a black and purple corset, a dark purple tutu, and some fishnet stalking. She looks at me, smiles, then turns her attention back to Paige.

"See? I'm not the only one who came as a prostitute."

"I'm not a prostitute! I'm an Alaskan warrior!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Ashley repeats.

I look up at them and sigh. "Craig, Jimmy, Sean and Dylan are trying to make me their sex slave and are fighting over who gets to keep me."

They all blink. "Um…okay…" Paige says. "But why is Spinner fighting?"

"He thinks they gang banged me."

"Oh…well then…"

"Did they?" Ellie asks.

"No. They only molested me."

"Ah…" she says nodding.

Paige glares, then begins stomping up to them. "Stop it right now!" she yells.

"Shut up," Jimmy tells her, dodging a kick from Craig.

"Yeah," Craig adds; in a raspy voice, since he's still being choked.

"Spinner, if you don't stop this instant, then I will…"

"No one cares!" Dylan yells.

"Yeah, just…go make out with Ellie or something!" Sean adds.

She huffs, glaring at them all. "Fine!" she cries angrily. She marches back over towards us, grabs Ellie's shoulders, and kisses her.

I think time just like…stops for a few seconds…everyone in the room pausing to stare in wide-eyed fascination. Ellie's expression is completely horrified, until Paige begins pulling her even closer. Then her facial features change…and she starts to kiss back.

Well then. Now **that's **a new development.

Suddenly I find myself being hoisted onto someone's shoulders again. At first I am horrified, only to find that it's Spinner who is carrying me now. I look back to see Craig, Jimmy, Sean and Ashley staring at Paige and Ellie -who are **still **making out, this is so strange, but oddly it fits- and Dylan, who is smiling happily and murmuring something about how 'it runs in the family'.

I clutch onto Spinner's shoulder, holding on for dear life. He runs through the gym, and a few people look at us. I smile to them all and wave happily, trying to pretend that this sort of thing happens everyday. We finally make it to the front doors. Spinner kicks them open and rushes outside. We -well, he, since he's still carrying me- continues running until we're all the way out of the parking lot. When we are, he stops, breathing heavily. I slide off of him, then sink onto the ground. He sits beside me, taking in a deep breath.

"Hey Spin…thanks for…saving me," I pant.

"No…problem…dude."

I sigh, leaning back against the gate the we stopped near. I look over at him, giving him a tired smile. "I want you to know that Craig…and Dylan…didn't do anything…to me."

"Really?" he asks breathlessly, turning his head to the side to face me. "I thought they…you know…"

"No," I tell him shaking my head. "No one even kissed me! They tried…man I screwed up…" I trail off. "Mozzy is going to kill me. I should have listened to her."

He pats my shoulder. "No man, it's not your fault. Their just twisted idiots," he assures me.

I laugh softly. "Thanks." I look down at my watch and sigh, glancing back over at the gym. "I should get home," I tell him. I need to find some sort of spell or something to fix this. I begin standing up, only to find myself being pulled back down into Spinner's lap. I land awkwardly, so I'm kind of straddling him. I gulp as the hand he wrapped around my wrist begins pulling me closer. "…Spin?" Come on, not him too! He couldn't have drunken it. I mean…there was nothing left. I don't think he'd drink after Dylan or Craig or Jimmy, and I know he didn't after Sean, since I was with him and everything.

"So I'm wondering, how exactly are you going to repay me for saving your virtue?" he asks, grinning.

I gulp again and try wriggling away from him, but he wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me even closer, effectively trapping me against his chest. My head is buried into the crook of his neck, his heavy breathing right near my ear. This is not happening! Still keeping the arm around my waist to keep me from moving away too much, he lets go of my wrist and places his hand underneath my chin, lifting my face up. I take in a shaky breath.

"Look, Spinner, you don't know what your doing, and I…"

He puts his finger against my lips, effectively stopping whatever protest I had. He smiles softly -weird, I know, but everything about tonight has been weird- and leans in.

"I know. How about you be **my **sex slave?"

Before I can do anything else, he moves his hand away from my mouth, only to replace it with his lips. He starts kissing me, softly at first, only to pull me even closer -if it's even possible at this point. Well, he obviously thinks it is, since he's still trying to- and deepen it. I push against his chest, trying to get away, but it's kind of hard with my arms trapped between us like this. I try to move again, but his arm only tightens, and his kiss only deepens. His other hand is gliding through my hair, tugging my head at an odd sort of angle so he has better access to deepen the kiss.

I'm…I'm freaked out and I'm really tired, and he's not being overly rough or demanding, and he smells really good, and it's been a long time since I've been kissed…

So, after trying everything my brain can think of -and being exhausted and having someone's tongue sticking down your throat is very distracting, so it's not like I can think of many things anyway- I stop struggling, give in, and kiss back.

---

(1) You know that Offsping song where their like 'Give it to me baby, uh-huh, uh-huh, and all the girls say he's pretty fly for a white guy?' Well I saw that video the other day, and it reminds me of Spinner so I put it in this fic.

(2) I really was on an AFI message board, and someone called Adam the AFI pirate. I couldn't think of anything for Craig to be and I was listening to The Art of Drowning when I wrote this chapter.

-blushing- Did I write that?

Spinner: YES!

Paige: YES!

Ellie: YES!

Marco: My ass still hurts…

Your supposed to be excited!

Marco: I am…but I'm still in pain…

All right. Heh…-still blushing- I seriously can't believe I wrote that. I need therapy, I swear. All right well I warned you so please don't flame me. Please review though, and come back next time to get the answers to these burning questions; Will Marco be able to fix what happened? Did Spinner get some of the potion, or did he molest Marco of his own free will? And where **was **Slade? Are our other couples ever going to get together? Please review!


	7. Chapter Seven: Aftermath

Disclaimer: Um…I own my ocs, the plot for this story (I'm pretty sure…) and that's it. And the costume Marco was wearing, but someone stole **that **too, so now Marco's been walking around in nothing but his black jacket!

Spinner: We really should catch this thief…

Is that red leather I see behind your back?

Spinner:…no!

Author's Notes: Wow, look it, more reviews! I got like…a bunch within the first few hours of posting. The last chapter was my inspiration for the story, actually. See when I was writing my Spinner/Marco I was like, now I need an idea someone's never used before. Well basically me and the voices in my head had this whole conversation where we were like, "yeah, let's have people molest him…because their under a spell…and Marco has the spell cause he's a witch." Yeah…that's pretty much how it went. People like this story more than I thought they would. Yay!

Dense: Nice name, eh. Ah but see, I don't think Spinner and Marco are that unlikely. Well…that's probably because I'm convinced that their madly in love with each other, so there you go. Thank you for the review.

Enigmus: Glad you liked it. Well I can tell you that Spinner and Marco are going to get together in this little piece of fiction, because I believe in happy endings. Twisted, unconventional, demented endings, but happy none the less!

Bridget N formerly jiggychu: I like your name. It's…interesting. My story rocks, yay! And I'm thinking about writing another Degrassi fic. It's where Marco gets hypnotized, and now he thinks he's a six year old, and someone (either Spinner or Craig, can't decide) has to take care of him. -laughs manically- It just **screams **for slash.

Cyanide Anytime: Oh my God, that poem on your bio page, the 'Vampire' is sooo good! I friggin loved it! Ever think about writing some type of fic based on it? -giggles- You could have Marco fall for a vampire…named Spinner or Dylan. What? Dylan gives out a sort of vampire vibe! -coughs- Anyway, thank you for adding this little piece of twisted ness to your favs. I appreciate it!

Your-sins-into-me: I **love **your name. You got it from 'Silver and Cold' -the best song ever written- right? Yes the Genocide song is the greatest! Go Vash! So you think Slade might be the bad guy? Hmm…well I can't say yes, but I can't say no either. I personally think Slade is kind of sweet. Oh well. Thank you for the review!

Fox eye: Yet **another **person who thinks Slade is the bad guy. Lol. He is pretty, but he's sweet too. Doesn't anyone like him besides me and Marco? -sigh- Oh well! Thank you for reviewing, and I'm glad you're liking it so far!

Mein Dame: Oh, oh, I loved the 'and now my ass hurts' line too! It was such fun. I needed Spinner to be Marco's hero in here, plus I wanted him to fight. Glad you found you it amusing! Oh and hey, your fic, which I forget the name of -heh- when are you going to update it? It looks so good! Peace out!

Almost-never: Aw, thank you! I love perverted and twisted humor, and yay, cause I'm not the only one who gets it. Your review was so nice, and it made me giggle, and my mom was just staring at me…she thinks I'm crazy, and a vampire, but that's a **whole **different story. You think I'm insane? Lol! That's so funny, cause that's exactly what the voices in my head tell me! Damn annoying little voices…

Isdule07: I'm almost always too lazy to sign in! Especially since my computer is now the biggest piece of crap ever. But thank you for the kind review and I'm glad your enjoy this twisted little piece of fiction. I am!

KinseySix: Writing all that slash was fun, but damaging…I seriously think I lost some brain cells writing all that slash. You wanna be my friend? Really? Wow! I feel like…all special…cause I love Pretty Girl -and Wonders, can't forget about that- and it made me giggle when I saw you reviewed. Love me double? Neato! It's weird, cause lots of people really **do **tell me they love me. -laughs- I'm just a big, albino-like, loveable freak, or so I've been told.

Well, thank you all for reviewing! You rock! -hands out brownies to everyone who reviewed- I hope you all enjoy this next chapter too!

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Chapter Seven: Aftermath

Mozzy gave me the longest lecture I've ever gotten when I got home last night. She kept yelling at me about how 'I can't go around messing with peoples emotions' and 'I shouldn't be such a damn cheap ass and should have just gotten the jasmine'. You know, the usual stuff a teenage boy gets after he comes home from just being molested by all of his closest male friends…and Sean.

God last night was a complete, total, and utter failure. Absolutely **nothing **went like it was supposed to. I was supposed to slip them the potion, they were supposed to get all lovey dovey, and then I was supposed to sit back and be happy because I was the one who had helped them get to that wonderful stage.

But **noooo**! Things always have to get screwed up, don't they? I always have to be cheap and get the sage, and the spell always has to get messed up, and then people always have to come and molest me!

All right…always might be a **bit **of an exaggeration. Still, it really was awful. I figured out what happened though. Turns out, it **was **the sage. It had a different effect than the jasmine did. Instead of the potion causing them -Craig, Jimmy, Sean and Dylan, who was **supposed **to be Paige, but again, nothing ever works out right!- to express their feelings for the people they truly cared about, the potion made them come to the person who had made it. Me.

So, yes, that was why they were all molesting me; it wasn't just the costume. It was a very traumatic experience, actually. Having all of them…fighting over me, referring to me as their 'sex slave'…it was creepy. It reminded me of **him**. Especially in the bathroom, when Craig had me pressed up against the stalls. I was afraid; I was seriously, honestly afraid of what one little potion had done to them. I had turned them into sexed-crazed predators! And yes, one might argue that this is the description of practically ever teenage boy on the planet, but not these teenage boys.

Well…maybe Sean…since I don't know him all that well.

With one little screwed up potion, I'd turned my best friends, my former boyfriend, and some guy I don't really know, into **him**. And God, that is probably the worst feeling I've ever had. Watching them all fight each other, hearing them talk like that…how could I have done that? How could I have been so incredibly **stupid **as to think that I could ever possibly do anything right?

It wasn't supposed to be like that. I was just trying to help. I was just trying to get them all together for Halloween, because I hate seeing them sad and alone; I hate seeing them all sitting around with that dead look in their eyes sometimes because the one person that could bring life back to them is only a breath away, but their just to scared to go over and admit how they feel. It was supposed to be fool proof! Any idiot could have pulled it off, but I couldn't.

I just **couldn't**. I was thinking about it -brooding, as Mozzy likes to call it- last night, and I was going through the what ifs. You know, the 'what if I had gotten the jasmine,' and the 'what if the spell had worked correctly.' Well, what if it **had**? Would they still have acted the same? Would they have gone off to Ashley and Ellie and Hazel like that? Would they have done the same things to them as they had to me?

What if that's what it had been like. What if I had just given them the potion, assumed it worked, and came home? Would I have gotten a call from Ellie the next morning, listening to her hysterics as she told me about how Sean attacked her in the parking lot? Would I see Ashley at school, retreating even further into herself because Craig had come to her house when no one was home? Would I see Hazel, straying away from everyone and hiding behind Paige because Jimmy had went too far?

It's morbid, I know, but what if it had happened? Spinner wouldn't have been there to save them. In fact, if things went like I thought they would in this twisted hypothetical 'what if', he would have been too busy getting groped by Paige -and loving it, no doubt- to save them. I just couldn't help but think…

And what if Spinner hadn't saved me? What if I'd been alone in the bathroom when Craig or Dylan or Sean or Jimmy came in there? What if the potion had gone a little bit too far? What if…

I thought about, ran over all of the what ifs in my mind, and I realized I was crying when I saw all the little wet droplets forming on Serge's dark fake fur. I couldn't have lived with myself. There are too many what ifs, too many to even think about, each one of them possibly ending up darker than the other.

Mozzy was right, I should have never done it. I didn't think about the consequences. I thought that, hey, I'll give them all a love potion and everything will be dandy! But it didn't turn out to be a love a potion. Love is something pure, something which comes from the heart and soul and makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, something that makes you want to jump and dance and scream at the top of your lungs. What happened last night wasn't love. It was lust.

It was teenage boys, with racing hormones, and a magical spell that caused the already small amount of rational brain cells -the ones in a young mans mind that tell you to think your heart, not your pants, the ones that tell you to give the girls or guy the flowers, the ones that tell you when the other is saying no and you have to stop now- to decline even more. You do the math. You do the what ifs. It isn't a nice thought, now, is it?

The spell wasn't meant for that. It was just supposed to take that feeling of love and make the person express it. Instead it made the person take a feeling of lust and express it. Now, there is always one, good, sure fire way to express your lust for someone else, whether the other person wants it to be expressed or not.

And, all right, if I had been an outside observer, I probably would have thought last nights incident -with them fighting and stuff- was hilarious. But thinking about…going over every single detail in my mind…I only want to cry. I want to cry because of what I did to them, what I could have done to them if the spell had 'worked' or if Spinner hadn't saved me.

I couldn't let them remember that. I wasn't going to let them keep awful memories of what they'd done the night before. Well actually I was contemplating letting Paige and Ellie keep theirs, but I couldn't, since if I did, they would have also remembered the whole 'hey, weren't all those boys trying to make you a sex slave last night?', and that would just defeat the entire purpose of erasing 'those boys' memories in the first place.

After Mozzy yelled at me -for at least a full hour- we went down to Rajko's. I told him what happened. He laughed about it -especially when I told him about my slip up on words and how Spinner attacked Craig for me- but he stopped when I saw he was crying. I spilled to him, about how I thought things might have went. He comforted me, a bit, but he did tell me that my what ifs weren't too far off the bat. Apparently I'm not the only kid who's screwed up a few love potions, but I did get by with the least amount of scars.

I still shiver when I think about the way he said those last few words to me.

He lectured me, too. You're never, ever, **ever **supposed to be stingy when it comes to the right ingredients. And it takes a very strong witch to pull off a love potion correctly. He also yelled at Mozzy, and they got into some whole fight in Romany -I only know they were speaking that language since Rajko kept speaking out loud- about it, which ended with Mozzy getting upset and scratching him into submission.

It **looked **painful. And that reminds me…I should really clip her nails or something. Their like freaking machetes!

Rajko helped me with a spell that would make them all forget what happened. I asked him what he and Mozzy fought about. He gave me the vague over view of it, but spared any real details. Basically it summed down to this: Mozzy thought I was ready for a big spell, so she let me do a big spell, then she just got a bit careless, since all of her thoughts are on **him **right now.

I was ridiculously excited when he told me that. Mozzy thought I was ready for those big spells. I would never know it, what with the way she mocks me endlessly all the time, but apparently she has faith in me. Like I said, Rajko didn't tell me much. I guess he thinks that if she really does think I'm strong -which she must, or else she wouldn't even have let me try the spell, right?- that she can tell me herself. I wish she would hurry up with that.

Well, anyway, I took the spell and headed over to everyone's house. That's right, everyone, at around midnight. My mama and papa got some phone calls from angry parents and pissed off neighbors about all the ruckus, but I did my job.

First, I went to Craig's. The spell was kind of wearing off -I'd figured that after a few hours that the potion would have been working, so I didn't need anything to strong; thank God I thought about that- but he still tended to get a bit too close when he was trying to apologize for his behavior. I told him that it was all right, I understood, chanted a few words in Romany that I can't remember for the life of me, told him some bull story about how boring the dance was and how he just hung out with the guys and danced with a few girls while looking longingly at Ash -what? He **does **do that, ever since they broke up over Manny- and then the night ended. It worked, thankfully, and after a few minutes of sitting around and staring blankly, he finally came to.

Then, I headed to Ashley's. The same thing there, only I added the fact that she and Craig had an actual conversation without either one of them yelling or hurting the other. All right, I know, I should have just been glad with what I got, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to attempt with what I'd been trying to do earlier.

Then it was to Jimmy's -who also apologized profusely-, Hazel's -needed to tell her the same story as everyone else-, Sean's -who took the longest out of everyone to come back, but when he did come to, he asked very politely what the hell I was doing in his house and practically shoved me out of the door; nice when I could have put him behind bars for sexual harassment-, Ellie's -of course we did have a little chat about she and Paige, in which she admitted some interesting things to me; of course if I tell anyone she will gut me like a fish, so my lips are sealed-, the Michalchuk residence -Paige was not a happy camper, yelling about how she had been pressured into kissing Vampira, then admitting how she'd kissed her once before, but that was only on an accident and she had been feeling bad for her when she'd found out about Ellie's cutting; Dylan was apologizing as well, but did manage to cop a cheap feel when I was doing the spell- and I think that was about it.

Oh, well, there was Spinner too.

Can't forget about Spinner.

That was probably the hardest visit. I waited until around seven this morning, since I couldn't go last night. I tried, believe me. I walked right up to his door and was three seconds from knocking before I chickened out and ran away. I mean, how was I supposed to face him after what happened?

I don't know why I kissed him back, why I didn't try to stop him like I should have. Maybe it was because I was still confused as to why he was kissing me in the first place. Could he have drunk the potion? That had to be the only explanation. Because he is Spinner, and Spinner is straight, and he loves Paige, and he would never in a million years kiss me. But he did…and he did it with vigor. So it had to be the potion.

But, the thing was, he didn't **drink **the potion. I didn't see him do it. Dylan had obviously drunken Paige's -it explains why he was all over me and she wasn't- so Spinner couldn't have taken any of hers. I really doubt he would have taken any of Craig's or Jimmy's. And there was no way he had any of Sean's.

So what then? Did he do it…did he do it because he wanted to? I tried not to think about, but I couldn't help it. It was only logical to assume that if he hadn't had the potion -which I really don't think he could have- then he did it of his own free will. But if you think about it, that's not logical at all. Is it? No, no it can't be. It just…I mean it couldn't be, right? Spinner wouldn't ever have those kind of feelings for me.

I realized that a long time ago. I got over it. Not like there was anything to get over really; Spinner was Spinner, and he always has been and he always will be. The only thing that I could ever be to him is a friend. I understand that, I accept that, because he's a great guy, and he's a great friend. My best friend, in fact. And all right, I can't deny it, the thought has crossed my mind. A best friend **and **a boyfriend? Yeah, that'd be great, but not realistic. I remember when he was convinced I had a 'man crush' on him. It was stupid, but partly true. I can't help it…well couldn't help it. I can now, because I've gotten over the stupid little crush. I have. **Really**.

At least I think I have. Last night…well last night, when he was kissing me, I must have just forgotten about the fact that I knew he was straight and that we were just friends and that I don't even think of him like that anymore. Maybe that's why I kissed back. I just…forgot…everything.

Maybe it was just that I hadn't been kissed in so long. I feel bad thinking that, though. I feel like I was just using him as some source of comfort or something. That I was letting him kiss me just because I'd missed the action, not the person.

I don't know what it was, and I've given up on trying to figure it out, actually. All I know is I did, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but I liked it. I shouldn't, I know, it's wrong and I'm twisted and I need professional help, but I liked the fact that I was sitting in my best friends lap, with his hands gliding through my hair and over my arms and chest, with his lips on my lips and my neck…I liked it all. I enjoyed it, and hell, I **participated **in it. Although you wouldn't know, since I'm really the only one with bite marks on my neck. I swear…Spinner must be some type of vampire or something. No, I really think he is. He's so pale, and kept biting me and…oh well uh…I'll just skip the details about the biting and his other odd vampire-like tendencies, at least when it comes to making out.

We were kissing, and touching, and…doing things I never thought I'd ever do with Spinner, when all of a sudden a car comes out of the parking lot -must have been a drunk driver or something- and swerved, barely missing us. Needless to say we jumped up and ran like hell; we wouldn't want to be run over, right? When the car left, we were both standing in the middle of the parking lot, breathing heavy, faces flushed. He looked over at me, like he was going to say something, but stopped. We just…sort of…stared at each other for a little while. Then I got tired of staring, so I ran.

Yeah, I ran home, and I told Mozzy everything. I couldn't just stand there. What was I **supposed **to do? Just stand around and see if he meant it when he suggested I be his sex slave? I couldn't…I mean I just…I was way too confused.

And I was still too confused when I came to his house at about one in the morning, which was why there was no way I could go in there. I snuck back home and thought about it some more, and still came up with a blank. I still had no idea why we kissed; if it was the potion, free will, or if he was just drunk or high or something equally as bad. I had no choice but to erase his memory. I tried to find a way around it, I did, especially when I realized how disappointed I was going to be when I looked him in the eye and remembered that he had forgotten everything that happened last night.

I had -have- no reason to be disappointed. Do I? I mean, sure, there's a microscopic chance that Spin did it of his own free will, that Spin likes me in **that **way and -doubtful as it is that was his reason for kissing me- he could actually want a relationship. But…I mean…who am I **kidding**. This is **Spinner** we're talking about; Mr. Gavin Mason. I knew a long time ago that he was straight; I known for a long time ago that he doesn't want me.

But now, after everything that happened, it hurts to remember that.

I went to his house. He met me on the front porch and we did some more staring. It was extremely…awkward was the only was to describe it. I wanted to ask him, but how would I word it exactly. 'Oh hey Spin, before I do this spell on you to make you forget everything that happened, why did you kiss me? Did you feel as if you were under a spell, or did you do it because your deeply, madly, and passionately in love with me and couldn't hide it anymore?'

Ha. Spinner, deeply, madly, and passionately in love with me? **Right**. Of course I couldn't say that to him, so I didn't. I didn't really say anything. I just did the spell and told him the story I told everyone else, and left. I didn't even wait until he woke up -the spell kind of knocks a person out, which was when I gave them all the story to fill up their empty memories-, I just left. I couldn't be there when he opened his eyes.

I've been lying in bed all day, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about last night. I try not to, but my thoughts drift there anyway, and I really can't help it. That's pretty much it; just lying around, thinking, brooding, crying every now and then when my thoughts get just a wee bit morbid.

Oh, yeah, Slade called.

I asked him why he didn't go last night. He said that he had been out of town with his parents, visiting a sick grandmother. It was kind of sweet, like him. Slade is sweet, and nice, and smart, and gay, and hot, and available, and hot, and he likes me, and I did mention he was gay and hot and available? Because he is…all of those things…unlike Spinner. Well…I mean…Spinner isn't, but he is, but he isn't, you know?

Oh…you know what I'm trying to say.

He asked me how the dance was. I told him it was uneventful, since that's going to be everyone else's story. I gave him the same story I did everyone else -excruciating detail and all, I was surprised he didn't hang up the phone- and he actually listened. He even made comments. We talked for over two hours. And it was like we were talking about absolutely nothing. He made me laugh like I haven't been able to laugh in a long time. And for about 52 minutes -the other 68 were spent half listening/half talking/half thinking about last night; yeah, I know, that would technically be one and a half, but leave me alone, I didn't get much sleep last night- I didn't even think about Spinner.

---

Right. I didn't know where to stop it.

Marco: Could have fooled me!

Spinner: Hey, I don't think you answered all the burning questions. I mean, we don't even know if I groped him out of my own free will or I drank the potion?

And your not **going **to know. I plan on leaving tiny loose ends throughout the whole ficlet. So it's up to you guys. Could Spinner have drunken some one's potion, or did he just give into his want for Marco since it seemed like everyone else was? Or **was **he just high and horny?

Spinner: Hey!

-laughs- Ah, I may tell you guys sometime…depends. I don't even know actually. And another note, this story was much more angsty, depressing, and disturbing then I wanted it to be. Last chapter was meant for humor, but Marco's thoughts on it was the angst for this story. -sighs- Review...and I'll love you forever! Plus I'll give you brownies...


	8. Chapter Eight: Eye of the Beholder

Disclaimer: I don't own anything!

Author's Notes: Wow! Look at all the reviews! I got so many, you all rock! –hands out brownies to all reviewers- Home made!

fox eye: I'm glad you liked the angst. You know, one of these days, I probably will end up writing a one shot about Marco and a vampire. You bet me Slade is the bad guy? Oh, I'm so down for that!  Except, I don't have ten dollars. And I should be prepared, just in case it **is **Slade. If I had even that much money, do you think I would be sitting around all summer writing fan fiction? Heh...

Bridget N: Here it is, the next chappy! So you think Spinner drunk it? Ah...we may never know...

Mein Dame: Lol. Yes, Spin **is **madly in love with Marco! Well Spinner doesn't beat him up in this chapter, but, well, you'll just have to read! You won't have to wait too much longer for me to start delving deeper into the wonderful world of Marco/Spin. Just a few more chapters. I hope you get inspiration for your story!

just-nikki: One time, we had this cheerleading thing –yeah, I'm a cheerleader, leave me alone!- where we looked after these little kids. Me and my friend came, and that was about it. I feel your pain! Borbid eh? Cool! I like that word. –happily munches on cookie- Yum! I have uses for cookies, and I'm sure I can find something for your sister to do. I've been needing a good slave.

almost-never: Not only am I evil, but I'm the **source **of all evil! Oh no wait, that's Cole...I get confused. Slade is fun to play with, so that's why he's still in this story! Ah, the other slashiness fic. I am **so **going to write that, because the perverted things I could do are just endless! It'll be a Spinner/Marco, since Craig really does belong with Ash. Lol, I'm so going to write a Toby/Marco fic now! –giggles- Oh, and you can quote the cure anytime your black little heart desires. They rule!

Isdule07: Lol, no sadly, Spin did not lick Marco's ear...yet! I'm glad you liked it anyway! High and horny eh? I'll make sure to deliver the message! I would have Marco do it, but every time I send Marco to tell Spinner something, he doesn't come back for hours...

Your-sins-into-me: AFI rules as well! All right, well, I guess I can spoil a bit for you and say yes to both of your questions. Hope you enjoy this and thanks for the review!

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: Must comment on your name, it's so wonderful! Hilariously perverted? Cool! People usually find my crap...well...crappy. Heh. Glad you're enjoying it!

KinseySix: Yeah, that one was a bit short, but this chapter is over 7,000 words, so it's sure to make up for it! Oh yeah, we could make a t-shirt that says 'Slash rocks my socks' on the front, and paste pictures of Spinner and Marco's heads on the back and draw a little heart around them. –giggles- No! Not Liberty! God, you must really like this story if you're willing to do **that**! You'll update Pretty Girl! The best slash story in the entire world! Yay! Oh and cookies...mmm...

anjel919: You think I'm funny? –gasps- People tell me I'm funny, sometimes, but usually their laughing at me, not with me. So sad...

Enigmus: Lol, your review was simple and to the point! So here you are, more!

Cyanide Anytime: Ah yes, brownies for all! –gives reviewers more- And yep, now I officially love you. –giggles again- You giggle a lot at 1 AM. Anyone else noticed that? I am going to go read your original fiction, since it sounds really cool! Thank you for permission to reference the poem though, it makes me feel all...warm and cuddly inside. Or maybe that was the taco...-shrugs-

Here we are, the next chapter!

---

**Chapter Eight: Eye of the Beholder**

Saturday and Sunday were two of the worst days of my life. Every single minute; every single **second **took hours to pass. What if the spell didn't work? What if they all remembered? What if they put two and two together and realized it was all my fault? What if they hated me?

I was so worried that I could barely sleep. I couldn't even pay attention during lessons with Mozzy. And -not that I need to point out the obvious or anything- if you don't pay attention when you're working on a fire element, well...things tend to get set on fire.

That's why I'm down here in the living room. I accidentally set my bed on fire. My ma and papa completely freaked -all because of one eency fire- being and told me I was grounded from being alone in my room. I've had to sleep on our couch for the past few days, and just let me say, laying on this thing isn't all that good for the back. I think I dislocated something just laying on this thing.

So anyway, imagine my surprise –and great relief- when I walked into homeroom on Monday morning, and found out that all was right with the world. Well, as right as the world **can **be.

Craig and Jimmy were sitting at their desks, listening intently as Spinner explained his theory about how Mrs. Kwan is really an evil alien sent here to Earth to begin colonizing slaves for the rest of the aliens.

Yeah...uh Spin's an idiot. And kind of paranoid.

Paige, Ashley and Hazel were sitting at their desks, each glancing back at the boys –well, Paige kept looking over at Ellie, who was too busy trying not to stare at Paige to notice she was being looked at- while talking about the dance.

I saw Dylan later that day, too. He was hanging out by his locker, talking to some of his hockey friends. He saw me, and gave me a little smile and a wave. So I think it's pretty safe to say that he didn't remember, either.

I was so ecstatic. I **was **a tad bit angry though; only because I had spent all weekend nearly driving myself insane –an burning up my bedroom- when everything was going to be just fine. That's the only reason I'm was upset, though. I mean it's not as if I have anything else to be upset **about**. No. Not anything like the fact that Spinner and I had kissed and he didn't even **remember **it. I wasn't lying around, obsessing about the tingle that went down my spine, or the way my stomach was twisting in so many ways it almost made me dizzy, or how, when he kissed me, I felt more alive then I had in a long time, but felt like I was dying too.

Nope. Not obsessing one bit.

So right now I'm lying on the torture instrument otherwise known as the couch, obsessing over the kiss –do not judge me- while still trying to memorize some spells.

"Rode ts-tshia," I mumble, yawning slightly. I raise my hand, lightly rubbing my eyes in a move to keep my eyes open. "Gotta stay awake."

I look up at the clock that is hanging above the TV. 2:34. No wonder I'm so tired. I know I should probably get some sleep –tomorrow is a school day, after all- but I skipped too much this weekend. I have to keep up in my witchly studies after all. I can't very well fight him without knowing how to control my powers and spells.

I haven't had any visits from him lately, thank God. Mozzy and I have been scrying for him though. Scrying is pretty simple, actually. All I have to do is focus my mind on something, and a picture of where ever it is will somehow form in my mind. Since I don't really know much about him –other than the fact that he's a witch, enjoys cutting me up with daggers, and is most likely evil- or what he looks like, I can't search for **him **exactly. Mozzy has been teaching me to feel and read auras, so I've been concentrating on dark mystical energies. The thing is, nothing comes when I do. Well, once I did get this lock on someone, but it turned out to be the Chief of Police. Oh...**that **was awkward.

Mozzy and I went to see Rajko, and even he couldn't find him. It's not like there are many witches here in Degrassi, so finding him was **supposed **to be pretty easy. Rajko said that it's possible he has some type of shielding spell around like him, like the one I have around my mind that prevents him from entering my mind, except this one hides his aura. Either that, or I'm doing it wrong, or he's not even in Degrassi. There were other suggestions from Rajko, but Mozzy threw most of them out.

I flip the book over and lay it on one of the couch arms, turning over on my stomach to try and get more comfortable. Absently, I begin swinging my legs back and forth as I look over the words on the pages.

"Rode tshia bore le ka...kanensa," I say, scrunching my face slightly. Some of these words are hard to pronounce. But if you don't say them **just **right, then all hell breaks loose. "Rode tshia bora le kanensa tai te na le yakensa." (1)

I smile, mentally giving myself a pat on the back for getting the first line of this invisibility spell. Man, next time, I'm definitely getting a spell book in English instead of Romany. I raise my arm above my head, stretching my leg at the same time, hoping to pop my back. I seriously think sleeping on this couch, and that love seat thing in the corner, has done something to me. I need a chiropractor. Next time we have to go down to Rajko's shop, I'm getting a massage.

The side of the couch dips down slightly. I try to lift my head to see what it is, but my neck pops, a small pain shooting through my neck which causes me to lay my head back down. Soon there are soft, warm hands sliding gently over my bare shoulder blades. Knew I should have worn a shirt to bed tonight.

No...not now. Not **now**. Haven't I been abused enough for one week without **him**? I look over the arm of the couch, seeing Mozzy lying asleep in the basket/kitty bed, nuzzling into the pink blanky I wrapped around her. Great, while my hell cat is sleeping, I'm getting molested by freak dream guy. Where is the justice in that?

I immediately begin struggling. One of my arms lash out to try and hit him, but I only end up knocking my spell book onto the ground. I try to flip over on my back, in an attempt to gain at least a sliver of control over the situation. He presses me back down into the pink rose covered cushions, halting any movement. I open my mouth to scream fro Mozzy, for my parents, for **anyone **to just get him away from me.

"Shh Marco," he tells me. "Do you really want to wake up your parents?"

I begin to scream anyway, but then stop, clamping my mouth shut. He's right; I can't call out to them. What could I say? Tell them that an invisible man is attacking me? I look over to Mozzy, casting her a pleading look. Mind speak! I can try to get to her!

_Mozzy! Mozzy wake up! Please...he's here!_

I stare at her, sending her urgent messages. She just **won't **wake up. I swear, atom bombs could be going off and she would still be asleep. I start thrashing my legs, trying to hit him. He lets out a grunt of pain when my leg miraculously makes contact with his knee. He moves, straddling my back, a position which prevents me from getting to him.

"Calm down," he growls into my ear. "If I was going to hurt you, I would've already. Just...relax."

I nearly laugh –without humor- but it comes out more of a choked sob, which is muffled by the cushion. "Relax? Kind of hard to do." I feel him smile –yeah, smile, not smirk...weird- against me and brush his lips over my neck. "G-get off of me...p-please."

I move my head –as much as I can anyway- to try and look back at him. I get a glimpse of a black shirt, and pale arms before he tangles a hand in my hair, pushing my head back down. I guess he's not to keen on the idea of actually seeing who he is.

He begins massaging my sore muscles, moving from my shoulder blades to the waste band of my boxers –should have worn pants tonight, too. No more sleeping in boxers only- then slowly back up again. And it feels...good. God, what the hell is **wrong **with me? This guy –this evil, somewhat sadistic, mean, possessive, probably not even good looking guy- is giving me a massage, and I'm **enjoying **it? I think I need some type of professional help or something.

His hands are still moving as he applies a bit more pressure to my sore spots, coaxing me into relaxing underneath his touch for a second. I suddenly realize what I'm doing and tense up, renewing my –admittedly- pitiful struggles to get him off of me. He again presses me into the couch, using one hand to keep me still, the other continuing to squeeze and rub up and down my back.

Against my will, I begin making small sounds of approval, melting into the warmth of his hands which continue gliding across my skin. Damn these evil teenage hormones.

"P-please...ju-just...just stop," I plead softly.

The hands never stop moving, only slowing down a bit and pressing a bit harder. "You don't sound like you want me to stop," he comments. His voices is low, almost distorted. I mentally curse him. I bet that even if I met him, I probably wouldn't even realize it. I don't know what he looks like, or even what he really sounds like. The most distinctive thing I know about his physical features is that he smells like cinnamon.

He reaches up and runs a hand through my hair, letting the tips of his fingers graze against my neck. My fingers curl into the fabric of the couch. I **not ** let him get to me like this. I won't. Apparently my body decides not to listen to my brains vow, since I continue relaxing, even giving a small groan.

I feel his weight shifting slightly, sliding down my body a bit. His hands continue working on my stiff lower back as he starts raining butterfly kisses from my right shoulder all the way to my left. I tell myself to keep fighting, keep struggling. But I'm **so **tired, completely exhausted and drained of my energy. I try to think of a spell, but my mind is fogged, and thinking takes energy that I don't have at the moment.

"Ah!" I yelp as he sinks his teeth into my shoulder, breaking skin and drawing blood. Ow...ow...that **hurts**. What is wrong with people?! Is **everyone **I know a vampire? First Craig bites Dylan, then Spinner with his biting –though it wasn't as painful as this- and now him. I wince and try to pull away, only finding that doing so brings more pain. I feel tears of frustration and anger gathering in my eyes, but refuse to let them fall. He finally stops biting, releasing the abused skin. I feel him beginning to lap the bit of blood surrounding my wound, then place a kiss on it. "Vampire," I whimper, trying to sound more angry than afraid.

"Vampire?" he asks me. He bends down and kisses my cheek lightly. "Only one-third."

And then he's gone.

-

_He gave you a massage?_ Mozzy asks me incredulously.

"Yeah," I tell her, nodding slightly.

_A massage?__ Really? _

I nod again, running a hand through my hair. She woke up at about 6:45, which –I think- was about fifteen minutes ago. Sighing I pick her up, cradling her in my arms as I head upstairs to get ready for school. I have to hurry, since my ma says I only get twenty minutes alone in my room to get dressed.

_He gave you a freaking massage?_

"Yes!" I tell her irritably. When we enter my room I set her on the smell desk chair –which used to have a matching desk, before I destroyed that with magic to- then head over to my dresser.

_I was just asking, Rom Baro. You didn't have to snap at me._

I roll my eyes slightly as I pull a drawer open. "Sorry," I mumble while pulling out a green tee shirt. I lay it down on top of the dresser, rummaging through the drawer for a gray long sleeved shirt to wear under it. "I'm just kind of cranky."

A satisfied sigh escapes me as I grab the great shirt I was looking for and a pair of light jeans. What do I need now...? Oh, socks. Gotta have socks. I grab a few and begin looking them over, frowning slightly when none of them match. "I still can't believe you didn't see him. I mean, he was **here**, not in my dreams," I comment. Finally I end up deciding on one yellow toe sock and a small neon pink one.

_Boxers.___

I turn around, giving her a funny look. She stares at me for a moment before sighing, making a motion to the last drawer. _You need another pair of boxers, unless you're planning on wearing those again today._

"Oh...yeah," I tell her, smiling. I kneel down and open the drawer, grabbing a fresh pair of black boxers.

_I can't believe I didn't see him either. I heard you making noises last night, but I figured you were just dreaming about that Spinner boy. And yes, I know you like him. Don't deny it. I **saw **your diary._

"You read my diary?!" I screech at her.

_Yes. Or that slu-I mean sweet, darling angel Slade._

I stare at her, my mouth open slightly. I can't believe she read my diary! Then I frown at her, going over her last comment mentally. "I swear, I'm surrounded by perverts and vampires," I mutter. I turn to see her looking at me strangely, an eyebrow raised.

_Who do you know that's a vampire?_

"Well, there's Craig. He's either a vampire, or just likes fighting like a girl. Oh and Spinner's one too, I swear he is. And so is **he**, dream guy. All right, well, **one-third **vampire, but vampire none the less.

_...right, _she says. _He said he was one-third vampire? _I nod in the affirmative, grabbing a stick of deodorant. _I don't even want to know what the hell that's about._

"Just...forget it." I tell her. My hands go to the bottom of my Spongebob sweater –I put the sweater on, along with some sweat pants after my 'encounter' then ended up watching a Judging Amy marathon on TNT- and I tug it off, laying it down and mentally reminding myself to put in the hamper later. I pull off my sweat pants too, putting them with the sweater. I slip my thumbs underneath the waistband of my boxers, beginning to remove them. I stop mid tug, looking over my shoulder, to see Mozzy still sitting on the chair.

_It just doesn't make sense. If he was here, why didn't I notice it? It's just like the time he came to you in the shower. I didn't even feel any type of evil mystical energy entering the home._

"Uh...Mozz..."

_Why didn't I notice it? I should have. Is it possible that I'm just losing my touch? Oh no, of course not. That's just ridiculous! How could you even suggest that, Rom Baro? Honestly..._

"Don't blame me," I retort. "**You're **the one who suggested it. Oh...and um..."

_I don't know how strong he is, but he couldn't possibly mask his entire aura that well. I should have been able to feel him here, especially since I was in the same room. Maybe we should go speak with Rajko again, just to see if he's leaned anything else. Hey, do you think your parents would mind if you skipped school today?_

"Mozzy!" I yell, causing her to trail off.

She glares at me slightly, and I can tell she's not too happy with the interruption of her plan. _What? _she snaps.

I give her a kind of rueful smile. Nervously I rub my bare arm. "Uh...do you think you...uh do you...?"

_Yes? What is it Lassie? Is Timmy stuck in the well again?!_

I frown at her, crossing my arms over my chest as I do. "Could you give me some privacy?" I ask her, a bit embarrassed.

She tilts her head to the side. _Why?_

"Well...it's just...I'm...I'm afraid you'll look."

She blinks at me once or twice. A sudden uncomfortable silence settles around us. My eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but the black cat sitting in my desk chair. A few tense moments pass, neither of us speaking, or really even moving.

Then she laughs.

And laughs.

And then...she laughs some more.

I glare at her, huffing slightly as she continues. It's not funny. I mean, yeah, it's not like she hasn't seen me in my underwear here and all, but I don't want her seeing anymore than that. I don't like being naked in front of girls. Can you **blame **me? It's not like it's really high on my to do list.

Mozzy has now fallen off the chair and is rolling around on the floor, slapping her paw against the carpet as she continues to laugh. I find myself pouting a little when she doesn't stop.

"Shut up, okay?" I ask her. "Come on! It's not that funny! I just don't like being seen...like that. Stop laughing!" I yell. After a few seconds I add, "Please?"

_'m n-not laughing. I'm just...I uh...I've got a hairball._

"Will you just leave?"

She pushes herself up to all fours, taking in a few deep breaths. _You think I'm going to try to look at you, eh Rom Baro?_

"You might look on **accident**...or something."

_No offense, but I don't exactly want to see that. In all of my years I have seen many more men who are much more handsome, better built, and well...just plain sexier than you. And plus compared to me you're like, four years old. And you're gay. And you're not really all that cute, anyway. And..._

"I get it," I say. Glaring at her I stiffen, suddenly finding her comments a bit offensive. "And hey, why don't you want to see me? I mean...I don't **want **you to see me...but...I mean I know I'm not the most...or anything..."

_Why **would **I want to see you?_

"H-hey...I know plenty of people who want to...**look**," I retort, wondering why I'm even arguing with my cat about this.

She shakes her head. _Why would **they **want to see look at you naked?_

"Because I happy to look very..." I trail off, searching for the right word. "G-glorious naked." Mentally I slap myself. Why do I feel the need to argue with everything she says? Why am I arguing about **this** of all things?

_Glorious?_she asks me, and I can hear the amusement playing in her voice.

"Um...y-yeah," I stutter, cursing my stupidity.

_So, have you been studying your naked form a lot to learn this little fact?_

My eyes widen and I feel myself blushing slightly. Quickly I shake my head. "N-no.."

_Then how do you know?_

"Well...uh...someone...t-told me..." I say, trailing off.

She gives me a sly grin. _So who have you been hanging around with, naked? Was it that Slade boy? Is that why you haven't been able to pay attention to your lessons?_

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to find a way to answer. How do I even get myself into these conversations? "...these questions are dumb," I tell her, hugging the new pair of boxers to myself. "Can you just...go now?" I ask her pleadingly.

She yawns a bit, licking her paw lazily before nodding to me. _Fine, fine.__ Wouldn't want you to worry about me trying to sneak a peak, _she teases.

I place my hand on the door knob, quickly throwing the door open so she can leave. I slam it shut and grab the rest of my clothes, throwing them on as fast as I can. I grab a black belt and thread it through the loops, bucking it tightly in the front. Then I head into the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth. When I'm finally done with that, I exit the bathroom and run towards my window, grabbing my backpack and swinging it over my shoulders.

"Marco!" my ma's voice calls from downstairs. "You have five more minutes before I come up there! You better hurry it up!"

"I'm coming ma!" I yell back down to her. I head back towards the door, jogging slightly so I can make it downstairs in time to grab a pop tart before I leave. I jam my toe against something, crying out and giving a small curse underneath my breath. Looking down, I let out a loud sigh as I realize that I haven't even put my shoes on yet. Crap. Frantically I begin looking around my room for a pair of tennis shoes.

"Marco!"

Biting my lip nervously I rush over to my closet, throwing the doors open in my rush. And of course, it just **has **to be the door with the hole in it. Without warning it falls off it's hinges, crashing to the floor. I yelp and jump back, just narrowly avoiding the falling door.

"What was that? What are you doing? I'm coming up there!"

"No ma, it's fine! Really! I have everything under control!" I tell her.

I mentally weigh my options, deciding that I'll just try to put the door back on later; I have to find shoes now. I drop to my knees and begin throwing whatever has fallen to the closet floor over my shoulder, desperately searching for anything at all. There is a pair of worn out green shoes. I reach for them, then decide that I'm not **that **desperate, and throw them over my shoulder. Another curse escapes me when I hear a loud 'thump'. I look back to see that the shoes hit the lamp near my bed –well, bed frame, since there's not really a bed there anymore- causing it to fall and shatter into pieces.

"Marco Del Rossi!" she screams. "If you do not come down here in ten seconds, I will beat you with this salami and serve **you **for dinner tonight!"

I gulp slightly, pushing myself up, then sigh when I realize that I **still **don't have any shoes. "Damn it!"

"Are you cursing up there?" she cries.

"Um...n-no!"

"Eight, seven..."

Quick...need shoes...gotta find something...

"...five...four..."

**Now**! Without really looking I bend down and quickly grab a pair of orange flip flops and slip them on. I run out of my room, practically flying down the stairs, reaching the very bottom to see my ma standing there, giving me a dangerous look.

"...one," she says slowly, and I let out a sigh of relief. "You were lucky this time. Now...GET TO SCHOOL!"

"Y-yes mama!" I tell her. I begin heading towards the door, glaring at Mozzy when she chuckles at me as I pass her. Can today get **any **worse?

-

I let my forehead hit the locker, banging it against the cool metal a few times, before pulling back and repeating the process again. Today has just not been my day at all. First mystery guy pays me a visit, then the disaster that was this morning, then I nearly get run over by some senior in the halls, and **then **Kwan gives us a pop quiz. A pop quiz that I failed, by the way.

I guess I've just been so caught up with everything that I lost track of my school work again. And I was doing so well, too. I guess I'll just have to work in some more after school study session with Slade. I grin a little at this, finding the thought of being able to spend even more time with him is lifting my spirits.

Gripping the knob of the lock with my index, middle finger and thumb, I begin twisting it lightly, putting in my combination. I pull down on it, finding that it just doesn't seem to want to move. I glare at it, giving it a menacing stare.

"Open," I command it, pulling a bit harder, but it still doesn't budge. "Oh come on! I got the combination right, I know I did! Just...open..." I mumble, still fighting with it. I hear a few chuckles from behind me and turn my head, seeing a few girls walk by. They giggle slightly as I look at them, a blond girl on the end raising her hand to wave at me. I blink at them and quickly turn my attentions back to the locker, trying to ignore them. "Oh, come on little lock," I plead. "Just...open. I've had a really bad day, can't you give me this one little break? Please?"

"Having locker troubles?"

I yelp a bit, the sudden voice to my right startling me out of my argument with the every tricky lock. I drop my books, a few of them hitting an exposed toe, causing me to let out a hiss of pain. I start jumping on my other foot, quickly reaching to grab the injured one, moving my thumb over the injured toe. I hear chuckling and look to see Slade, smiling at me widely. I glare at him and open my mouth, prepared to tell him that this is most certainly not funny, and that he is a jerk for laughing. I guess I forgot that my books are littering the floor at the moment and I jump on one of them, slipping. I let go of my foot as I begin to fall forwards. Closing my eyes, I prepare for the harsh contact of cold tile against my face, but it never comes.

Instead, two strong arms are wrapped around my waist, pulling me up. I look up, stuttering slightly as I find myself pulled up against Slade's chest; Slade's very nice, warm, well muscled chest.

"You okay?" he asks me concerned, his soft voice right next to my ear. I nod, finding coherent speech much to difficult at this close proximity to him. "I didn't mean to startle you. Sorry," he apologizes.

"Oh no, it's f-fine," I mumble, finding myself very glad that he's still holding on to me. I pull back a little and look up at his face, my gaze meeting his clear, icy, beautiful blue eyes.

Breathing. Need to remember to breathe.

Looking up at him like this, I suddenly forget that we're in the middle of the hallway, and that anyone could walk right past us right now. There's just him, and me.

Damn it...I told myself to breathe!

Giving me a soft smile, he –regrettably- lets go of my waist. He takes a small step back and kneels down on one knee. I stare in confusion, not exactly sure about what he's going to do. He touches my injured toe slightly –which has stopped stinging now- and gives me a rueful smile.

"I really am sorry about that. Does it still hurt?"

I shake my head, my brain still not functioning well enough for words at the moment. With the same beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous –I could go on and on with adjectives- smile on his face, he lifts his index finger to his lips, then brings it back down, pressing it to my toe. I can feel heat flooding to my face at the gesture, but also a small grin playing on my lips. He grabs my books, piling them into his arms, then stands up.

I resist the urge to sigh dreamily at him.

"Nice shoes," he comments grinning. "This your locker?" he asks me, nodding to the one in front of me.

"Yeah," I tell him. "It won't open though. Piece of junk."

"Here, hold these," he says, handing the books back to me. "What's your combination?"

"It's 4-"

"Hey guys," a new voice from behind us says. Both Slade and I turn our heads, watching as Spinner and Paige walk up to us. My grin widens and I gave them both a wave. "So...what are you doing?" Spinner asks us.

I open my mouth, prepared to answer, but Slade cuts in. "I'm just helping Marco get his locker open," he tells him.

Paige grins, looking over at me and winking. "Isn't that sweet of him Hun?" she asks.

Spinner gives Slade a kind of disapproving glare before speaking. "Yeah, sweet," he says, a bit sarcastically. "I can get the locker." He begins moving forward, reaching out for the lock, but Slade puts a hand to his chest, pushing him back slightly.

"I'm sure I can get it. Marco was just telling me the combination, right Marco?"

I start to speak again, but this time it is Spinner who cuts me off. "Well I already **know **the combination, and it really doesn't make any sense to go around telling strangers how to get into your locker, isn't that right Marco?"

"Well, I..."

"Stranger?" Slade asks. He then glances over at me. "Am I stranger to you, Marco?"

I look over at Paige, who is staring coldly at Spinner, who is glaring at Slade, who is now eyeing Spinner. Can you spell, tension?

"Uh...guys," I begin, trying to get their attention. They ignore completely, instead staring at each other, looking as if their ready to pummel each other. All right, what exactly am I missing? I mean, I know Spinner isn't really Slade's biggest fan, but he's never actually gotten into a real confrontation with him. My gaze drifts from my two friends towards Paige, then into the middle of the hall way, where I see Ellie beginning to come towards us. She walks up to our little group, standing beside Paige but not acknowledging her.

"Hey Marco, ready to go to lunch?" she asks me.

I prepare to answer her, but once again –am I ever going to get to say anything- I am cut off by the two boys standing in front of the locker.

"Yeah well maybe I just don't want some psycho," Spinner begins, pushing Slade's arm away from his chest, "being able to break into my best friends locker."

"Oh please. I think someone's a bit jealous that their friend has someone new to play with."

"Jealous? You think I'm jealous?"

Slade tilts his head, looking down on Spinner –who's only about two inches taller than him- as he begins to speak. "I'm not the one fighting over who gets to open his damn locker!"

Ellie merely blinks, looking at me as if I'm supposed to be able to give her an answer to their strange actions. I merely shrug my shoulders, shifting to lift the books back into my arms, since I don't want them falling again.

"Admit it, you haven't liked me since the first day you met me!"

"Oh gee, and you figured that out when?!"

"You're nothing but a little punk who just **thinks **he's tough. I don't even understand why Marco puts up with you."

"Me? You're the one who walks around acting like he's better than everyone else! Just because you're a few years older, doesn't mean we should bow down to you or anything!"

Slade glares at him, stepping a bit closer, getting into Spinner's personal space. "What gives you the right to say anything to me about the way I treat people? **Especially **after how you treated Marco," he says icily.

Paige clears her throat, clearly not liking where this conversation is going. "Let's just get out of here," she says, but Spinner doesn't turn his attention away from him. "Come on," she continues, but still he doesn't move. I look at them, not understanding what is really happening . She glares at him, huffing a bit. "Fine. Whatever. Stay here and have your little macho fight over the freaking locker! Come on Ellie," she begins, wrapping her hand around my friend's arm and beginning to pull her towards the caf. "You're eating lunch with me today."

I look after them, blinking slightly as I watch a somewhat stunned, somewhat blushing, somewhat giddy Ellie being pulled down the hall by a somewhat pissed, somewhat muttering, but still somewhat giddy Paige.

...weird.

I turn my attention back to the two teen boys in front of my locker. I wish they would just stop fighting. I mean, God, what are they even **fighting **over? Being able to open my locker? Which neither of them is opening, by the way. Just thought I'd point that bit out.

"Don't even start that," Spinner hisses, mimicking Slade by taking a step forward as well. "That was a long time ago."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it was. I bet you think that he's just gotten over it, don't you? Well you know what, I'm not sure he has. Do you know how much you hurt him? He **trusted **you, and what did you do to him? You turned your back on him; you wrote it on the bathroom wall!"

"Why do you care anyway? It's not like it's any of your business!"

"He's my friend too, you know, so yeah, I'm kind of thinking it is my business."

I really, **really **don't like the way this is going. Still half way struggling with my books, I take a few steps towards them. "Guys, please don't do this," I ask them softly.

I'm ignored. Surprise, surprise...

"Why do you want to be his friend anyway?" Spinner asks him. "He's just a little tenth grader. A peon not worthy of your time!"

Gee thanks Spin. People have just been doing **wonders **for my self esteem today. I blink a few times, trying to fight back tears. I know he's not trying to, but hearing words like that coming from his mouth...it hurts.

"Please, stop it you two," I plead again.

"Peon? Oh, does using such a fancy word make you feel better, huh Mason?"

He glares, looking like he's two seconds from slamming Slade into the locker. "Oh yeah, now I remember why you're after him," he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've already fucked the rest of the guys in this school, so now you're starting in on defenseless Marco!"

"You little-"

"Guys!" I scream, my voice shaking. "Shut the hell up!" I yell, finally gaining their attention, as they both snap their heads towards me. I feel tears stinging my eyes, and they both give me regretful looks; Slade's more apologetic than Spinner's, who just looks plain pissed off at the moment. "Just...go. Both of you. I can open my own locker."

I push past both of them, edging them away by shrugging my shoulders as I reach for my lock. I feel a tear rolling down my cheek but ignore it, hoping that maybe if I do, neither of them will point it out. I manage to get the lock open. After dumping my books inside I slam the door shut, quickly hooking the lock back around it. When I turn around, they are both still standing there, staring at me.

"Look, I'm sorry Marc-" Slade begins, but I stop him by waving a hand in dismissal.

"It's fine. Just forget it," I tell him.

"No it's not. I shouldn't have said those things," he apologizes. He then turns towards Spinner, taking a deep breath. "Man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that stuff."

Spinner stares at the hand like it's poison. He glares up at him. "Bull shit," he hisses.

"God will you two cut it out?" I ask them. "You're acting like...like little kids, or something. Have some maturity."

"I-"

"Slade, look, I know you're sorry. It's okay really."

"Marc-"

"Spinner...shut up," I tell him, shaking my head. He looks surprised, and a bit angry, but stops anyway. "I can take care of myself all right? I'm not a little kid." Without giving either of them a chance to say anything else, I turn around, heading towards the caf.

"Wait, Marco!" Slade says. I don't slow down until I feel his hand wrapping around my arm, gently pulling me to a stop. I turn to face him, looking up at him tiredly.

"What?"

He looks slightly nervous, giving me a little smile. "Listen, now probably isn't the best time to ask or anything, but...do you want to go out with me Friday night?" he asks.

I blink at him, feeling time stop momentarily. He's...he's asking me out? Now? After he and my best friend just had a fight over some dumb locker? He's asking me out?!

When I don't answer, he continues. "See, my dad has this friend, who's opening up a club. We can get in free; we don't need fake ID's or anything either. The Killers are even going to play there. I know how you told me you liked that band and...well I thought maybe if you wanted to go with me..."

I continue to stare at him, my mouth hanging wide open as I do. He...he wants me to go with him? I feel like, dancing, or singing, or just jumping up and down a lot. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Then, I look over at Spinner, who is giving Slade such a cold glare it sends shivers down my spine. Spinner...? Oh man...how can I go out with Slade when...how can I even give him answer with Spin standing right there? I'm still pretty confused about where exactly my feelings for Spin stand, anyway; do I like him as a friend, as more than a I even love him? No! No! No!

So I stare, opening and closing my mouth about twenty times, before the I finally give him my answer.

I'm mean, there's really only one choice...right?

---

(1) 'Rode tshia bora le kanensa tai te na le yakensa' basically means 'With the ears, and not with the eyes' in Romany. **Seems **like something that might be used in an invisibility spell. I can't really find any web sites with spells on them; and it's pretty difficult to explain to you mother why you're looking up spells in Romany for a slash fan fiction your writing.

All right guys. I am moving to another house, like, tomorrow, and I don't know how long it's going to be before I get my internet back up. I apologize in advance for any lateness of updates. But this chapter was **extra **long, so it might hold you over.

Marco: But you made it a cliffy!

Spinner: He's going to say no right? Say no and go home with me?

Marco: Is that the only thing you ever think about?

Spinner:...I think about food too.

-rolls eyes- Please review! I'll be back...soon. I don't know when though. Bye guys. I'll miss you! (Watch me get internet back and update tomorrow...-sighs-)


	9. Chapter Nine: Subtle

Disclaimer: After I find the weapons of mass destruction and take over Canada, I will rule over Degrassi! Until then...I don't own anything. -sniffles-

Author's Notes: -creepy music playing in the background- She's baaccckk! Dear Lord I thought I was going to die without the Internet. I almost went into with drawl. But I'm back now!

Marco: Goody.

Wow! Look! Look at all of those reviews! And to think, I thought no one was going to read this!

Spinner: Wait...you thought?!

Such lovely reviews, and one stupid flame that made sense. All right, review responses, then on to the story!

Fucted up Kid: Inuyasha is fun. You probably mean Kagome. I don't like her...-twitches- But I only watch the show for the Sesshomaru moments, because I want to put him with Miroku. -coughs- Oh and their not on there yet, but Bankotsu and Jaktosu -he's gay on the show, and sadistic, I love him- too. My friend is obsessed with Harry Potter, so I think I know what you're talking about. Isn't a Veela like someone who whenever people meet them they always fall in love with them or something? -blinks- No, I would never think you were copying off of me! Good luck with the story, it sounds interesting, and I can't wait to read it if and when you do post it. Oh, are you going to make Marco the Veela? That'd be amusing. Oh and Mest rules. Sadly I only have on CD, but I'm working on my collection! The Killers are one of my new favorite bands. 'Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight!' Lol. I'll see if Marco can get you an autographed pic, kay? Oh and don't worry about cute, clueless little Spinner. I've plans for them. This chapter was supposed to include the date (yes, Marco did say yes, don't hate me because I'm beautiful...err...I mean sadistic) but I got carried away. The next chapter will be the whole date, and some other...well I can't tell you or I'd ruin it!

Enigmus: Don't worry, Marco and Spinner will get together, because they are soul mates and I say so. Slade is just here for...well you'll see what he's for later. Thanks for reviewing!

jasmine: Yes, curse Dylan. He's pretty and all, but Marco and Spinner belong together. And there are other -few, very, very, very few- Spin/Marc ficlets out there. I have many of them on my favorites list. A little crazy is always good! I hope you did like the rest.

Bridget N: I'll be missed. Cool! Yeah, I like Paige/Ellie. I got into that the first time I saw 'Whisper to Scream'. And I read Pretty Girl, which has only fueled my little mission to bring them together in all sorts of different fiction. And the move went...fine. I was outside for five minutes through the entire thing and got sunburned. -curses- Darn my ghostly pale complexion...

Cyanide Anytime: I'm glad you don't hate me. I don't handle rejection well! I love writing cliffhangers. Such great fun to torment you all...muwhahaha...-cough-

anjel919: I would love to see the look on my old English teachers face if she read this. -giggles- Oh, and in answer to your question; Marco does have pretty good control on mind speak, and mind read, he just doesn't like to violate people like that. He's been violated a lot psychically -in the end of Pride, and lots in this lovely fiction- and he doesn't want to do that to someone else. I thought about having him go into Spinner's mind, but I want to keep him in character as much as I possibly can, and Marco seems like the type who wouldn't want to go into someone's mind unless he really had to. lol, it would be like another world! A more dirty, naughty world filled with him violated Marco -in more ways than one- thought. Actually...that might not be so bad. You think I'm fascinating? lol! Most people think I'm boring, to be perfectly honest. Guess that's just cause they've never read any of my fiction. You think I have another personality too? Well I do. See there's one that likes Marco slash, one side that likes Ellie slash, one side that likes Marco **and **Ellie slash...

torian princess: Cliffy's are fun! Glad you like this story, and here is more galore! oooo...I rhymed...And yep, I'm 14. Not old enough to drive but old enough to get a moped. I have to make a friend to get one first thought. -sulks- It's so much easier making friends whilst writing perverted angsty slash then in real life. I kind of like the Ashley/Ellie, at times, but I'm more of a Craig/Ashley person, and I felt the compulsive need to slash Ellie with someone. And so...here we are. I'm going to write a story centering around the Paige/Ellie pairing one day, and dedicated to all those who love slash! I'm glad you like this, and your comment made me blush. I don't mind long reviews; I eat 'em like Recess. Recess for breakfast...

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: You reviewed bunches! Yay you! I'm trying to answer them all in this one response, so it might be a tad bit long. The turtles rule. I was an obsessed turtle and Power Ranger kid. Scary. Oh and hey, random fact; the dude who played the Black Ranger -I think it was that one- also did the voice of Wolfwood from Trigun. Moving was hard work. We're still not done yet. Oh and today I had to go get that damn Hepatitis B shot, and now my arms are sore, and I still have to lift all these heavy boxes. Oh hey, is your fic that 'Fit like a Gloves' or something one? I was reading something like that, but never could review it. I'm glad I inspired you! I feel special! Ah yes, Slade totally gives off Bishounen vibes! I love bishies...-drools- You know if Marco was anime, he would be a total bishie! In fact, he is sort of bishie like now. I do love Marco angst. There's some in this chapter, so you'll be set! You liked chapter 6, ne? -chuckles- Yeah, that was meant to be funny, but I honestly didn't know if anyone was going to get the humor in it. -blushes- You think I could write original ficlets? Aww, how kind. I might one day, if I ever get around to it. It'll probably be a slash filled werewolf story with lots of angst and demented humor. -coughs- And the hypnotized story will be called 'Adventures in Babysitting', after that old movie I think. I want to finish it before I post it, since it will probably be short. Heh....thanks for the review...s...

fox eye: This chapter is long too. How the crap do I write all this? -shrugs- But I do love the cliffs. Their right next to the ocean...

Isdule07: Here is your update! -giggles- Wow, loath is a strong word! I won't have many more cliffhangers. Maybe one or two or three or four or seven. Not many left!

KinseySix: You can't beat Slade up! I need him for a few more chapters! If you can hold out until then, you can borrow him for a punching bag. Well...after I'm done with him. -whistles- lol, love your reviews. Oh and we don't even have to wait for Spin to defile Marco -although he will, so don't worry- for Paige and Ellie to become 'friends'. You'll just have to read this chapter. Oh and hey I'm updating; this means you need to go write another chapter for Pretty Girl. I mean like...now. Please? My bargaining skills aren't nearly as tough as yours. But I slaw! Who can resist the wonderful lure of cole slaw? Hmm...no one! Yeah, so if you write more of your story, not only will I update, I'll give you a years supply of cole slaw, delivered to you by our very own...Manny the slut Santos! Now that's an offer you couldn't refuse!

Your-sins-into-me: Vampy guy -1/3 vampy guy- is cool. I do love him. -giggles cause she's the only one who knows who he is- I get why you're asking, and hey you never know, it might be Slade. You'll just have to read to find out!

almost-never: You're moving too? That's very....odd. But cool, in a freaky way. We got our phone Monday, but we didn't have a computer until Tuesday. It took me a long time to write this chapter because I can't type on a lap top worth crap. Plus my arm is sore from lifting crap and getting that damned shot...-twitches- I don't like needles, especially when their being stuck into my arm. I'm glad you liked the chapter. And hey, you quoted! I love it when people quote some of the things from my fic. I feel so special! I found it a very highly amusing conversation for Marco to have with Mozzy. Hope you enjoy this as well!

---

****

Chapter Nine: Subtle

I lift my chocolate milk up from the tray, slurping what little remains through the straw as I try to ignore the cold eyes on my neck. My eyes drift to stare at one of the trashcans in the corner, and I force myself not to turn my head. As I do this, I have the strange urge to whistle inconspicuously, even thought I don't have anything to be inconspicuous **about**, and I'm kind of still slurping, so whistling is really out of the question.

After a few more moments of this, I decide that trying to avoid him is pointless, and kind of ridiculous, since I don't even know why I'm to nervous to face him anyway. With a sigh I put the milk carton back on the tray and turn to face him. I look him straight in the eye, and tell myself to be strong. I don't have to answer to him. It's none of his business what I do with my life. I can take this opportunity to let him know that I am not a child, and I don't need him to look out for me; I can let him know that he has no right to try to control me. This isn't any of his business, and I will let him know that.

"What was I **supposed **to say?" I whine pitifully, giving him some sad eyes, hoping that this ploy on my adorableness will get him to stop glaring at me like he's about to break his lunch tray over my head. Hey, it works with Ellie.

He continues glaring, and I find that my resolve -as well as my puppy eyes- is melting away as he does. I look away from him, barely noticing as Craig, Jimmy and Hazel approach our table and take a seat. I look around at them, hoping that maybe they'll know what happened to Paige and Ellie. Last time I saw them, they were storming off down the hall into the caf, but when Spinner and I got here, they were no where to be found. Weird...

"So, what's up?" Craig asks us as he puts his tray down and plops into a seat beside Hazel.

Tearing her gaze away from Jimmy, she looks at me, then shifts her eyes around the table. "Where's Paige?" She asks.

I shrug my shoulders, absently grabbing my fork and beginning to play with my green beans...which are really more of a yellow color than green. Eww.

"Hey Spin, are you gonna eat those potatoes?" Jimmy asks, his spork -you know, those crosses between a spoon and a fork?- already hovering closely to the potatoes in question.

"How about 'Hell no, you stuck up little bitch,'?" Spinner says. I think it's directed at me, as an answer to my earlier question.

A silence settles over the table, one so tense that I can practically hear the jaws of the people sitting around us slacking. I look up to see them all staring at Spinner, looks of confusion written on their faces. Hazel looks like she's about to punch him, as does Jimmy, while Craig just sits there, a bit wide-eyed.

"...so...can I have them?" Craig asks bit apprehensively.

Spinner pulls his -angry- gaze away from me to look at the other occupants of our table. He gives them a funny look, now appearing just as confused as they are. "When did you guys get here? Hey! Get your freaky sporks the hell away from my potatoes!"

Craig and Jimmy both quickly pull their sporks away from a rather irritated Spinner -who is now holding his straw in a defensive position above his tray- and his potatoes. I look over at Hazel, who is laughing slightly as she watches them.

"No! Don't! Okay, okay! I promise not to touch your potatoes...just...don't!" Craig yells desperately.

Spinner smirks a little and moves his milk carton -which was hovering over Craig's oh-so-precious green apple jello- back to his own tray. "I knew you would see it my way," he says.

"You're sadistic," Craig informs him, glaring as he pulls his tray towards him protectively.

These people are **way **too attached to the cafeteria food.

"What's up with you today man?" Jimmy asks. "Is it that time of the month?" He laughs a bit at his own joke before Hazel elbows him in the rib cage, causing him to let out a small yelp of pain.

She glares at him, her eyes narrowed as she speaks seriously. "That is **nothing **to joke about."

I look back across the table to Spinner, who has currently resumed his 'I'll-just-stare-Marco-to-death' campaign. "I'm sorry! I couldn't just say no. I mean, he seemed really excited, and it's The Killers, and...and he..." I trail off, unsure of what else to say. I can tell by the way he's looking at me -the way he **has **been looking at me for the past ten minutes- that he's pretty upset with me, not that I completely understand why.

"Say no to what?" Craig asks me as he not-so-discretely begins edging his eating utensils towards Spinner's tray once again. I give him a quizzical look, silently wondering why he would be going after Spinner's food after his jello had been threatened. Grinning to me, he makes a motion towards the corner of his tray -the small compartment where the jello in question was located- which I see has been completely cleaned out.

After a moment -and resisting the urge to laugh, or hit him over the head- I open my mouth to respond to him, but instead Spinner cuts in, a question of his own rolling off his lips; after he, of course, nearly stabs Craig in the hand with his fork.

"You guys know that Slade guy, the one in grade 12?" he asks them all.

Jimmy nods, taking a sip of his Diet Coke before responding. "He's the one that's been tutoring you, right Marco?" he asks me.

I nod my head in the affirmative, wondering if I should just say something now, or let Spinner continue. I guess I should just let him talk, right? I mean, maybe if I do, I can find out why he's so angry.

"Oh, that guy!" Hazel says, a slightly dreamy look crossing her face. "The one with the eyes?"

With a slight grin -and probably a blush too- I shake my head again. The two of us share goofy smiles for a moment, before Jimmy coughs, lightly poking Hazel in the shoulder, bringing us both out of our daydreams.

"You mean the guy Marco's been borderline obsessed with for the past month or so?" Craig says. "I saw him at Hobby Lobby the other day. Cool guy, knows a lot about nuts." We all stare at him for a moment. He takes a sip of his Cherry Coke, then looks around at all of his. He sighs heavily, shaking his head quickly. "I mean nuts, like the nuts and bolts? The tools! Honestly you guys..."

"Hey," I say, blushing a bit darker now. "I am **not **borderline obsessive!"

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? Then how do you explain the fact that you practically stalk him?"

I begin to answer him, but instead my gaze travels towards a rather irritated -and surprised- looking Spinner. I try to give him a rueful smile, which turns into nothing more than a small pout when he glares at me. All right, now I know what you're thinking, and no, I don't stalk Slade. It hasn't been **that **long since I've had a date.

See, Craig and I were at the mall a couple of weeks ago, looking at some new amps and stuff at Michaels Music Mania -great name, right?- and guess who we just happened to see. Slade. I was going to say hi to him, but by the time I worked up the nerve, he had already left. So, Craig being the great guy he is -and because he wanted to look for some type of gift to give to a certain 'goth' he knows- came with me, and we spent some time -two hours- wandering around the mall to find him.

So it sounds stalker...ish...but it's not.

"I'm not finished," Spinner says, well, more like hisses through clenched teeth. We all turn our attention away from our own conversations to look at him. After a moment passes, and he's sure he has all of our attentions, he speaks. "Well, this Slade guy..."

"With whom Marco is obsessed."

"Craig, I am not obsessed!"

"Are too."

"I am not."

"You so are."

"I'm not!"

"...asked Marco out," he finishes, banging his hand on his table, causing Craig and I to stop our argument.

I look around to see each of them blink at him. After several moments of saying nothing -and **doing **nothing, except for staring at him blankly- Jimmy makes a movement with his hands, motioning for him to continue with his little story. Spinner merely throws his own hands up in the air, signaling that he **is **finished, and asking why they aren't yelling me at me right about now. Craig gives another heavy sigh, then narrows his eyes a bit, indicating that Spinner is completely over reacting, and that if my obsession has asked me out, he should be happy for me, instead of being such a jerk.

I'm very skilled in the ways of sign language slang.

"Hey!" I yell indignantly. "I am **not **obsessed!"

Craig blinks slightly, then scoots a few inches away from me. "I never said you were..."

"Yeah well, you glared it..." I tell him, trailing off slightly.

He gives me a weird look, shaking his head. "You're...freaky." He looks across the table at Spinner. "And you're just as freaky as he is."

I decide that arguing with Craig is kind of pointless right now; besides, there is the more pressing matter of Spinner. I don't know what is wrong with him. On one hand, I get why he's so angry.

He and Slade aren't exactly best friends; it was like hate at first sight, or something. Their personalities are kind of alike, in ways, so it makes some kind of sense that they wouldn't exactly mesh. I even get the fact that Spinner is jealous. No, he's not jealous because he's like, in love with me or anything -I realize that fact, and I accept it; and it's not like I'm in love with him, cause I'm not, so just stop accusing me of things- but he's jealous because Slade is kind of taking his place.

It's hard to explain, and kind of weird, but I get it. I have the same thing with Paige. It's like, every time I see them together, I get this little ache, almost like a tug at my heart strings, because the more he is with her, the less he belongs to me.

Wait...that came out sounding so wrong, and kind of possessive.

Before, Spin and me were close; like really close. Like, brothers, or something. I looked up to him, and trusted him, and just all around felt like I belonged with him.

As friends. God...that didn't come out right either...

Then I came out to him, and it all just went away; evaporated into thin air. It hurt; it cut and it stung, the way he could just turn his back on me, pretend like I was nothing to him, without even giving me a second look. I guess I had invested too much into the friendship, built it up on a pedestal, and I probably shouldn't have. I held it to me like a lifeline. When my parents became too much, when pretending, when the lies, when everything was falling apart, he would be there. Even Ellie couldn't always do that. She's still my soul mate, and I love her completely, but she has her own life. Not that Spinner doesn't have his own life, it was just that I was such a big part of it, I could count on him.

The time when we weren't friends, when he would barely even look me in the eyes, was one of the most painful times for me. And then, somehow, bit by bit, we started building ourselves back up. Slowly but surely we started to become friends again. So now, we're making up for the time lost. He won't admit it -I won't ask him to- but I know that he was hurting just as much as I was during that time. When we got back together...as friends...everything was a lot better, but we weren't nearly as close as we used to be. I tried everything I could to get us back to that place, and he's been like, Super Friend, always doing whatever he can to help me out and make up for his prickishness.

So when I'm drooling err...I mean hanging out with Slade, it upsets him; more so because he doesn't really like Slade that much. And when he's with Paige, it does the same thing to me. It's a weird sort of jealousy, but it's there, in both of us, and I hate making him feel like that. I never want to hurt him; I would never want to put him through the hell that I went through when he turned his back on me.

On the other hand, I thought he might be a bit happier for me. Considering he has been playing Super Friend, I would think that being supportive about my new love interest would fall in with that. But hey, what do I know? I have no idea how his mind works.

"Spinner," I tell him, looking across at him to meet his gaze. I give him a sort of pleading look, forgetting that there are people sitting around us who don't understand the whole Super Friend and weird jealousy thing as I silently asking him to calm down. "I get why you don't want me to go out with him, you know I do. And plus, you hate him. But...can't you let me live my life? It's my decision whether I want to go with him or not."

"So what? My opinion doesn't matter?" he asks.

"Don't," I tell him softly, and he lets out a sigh. "Just don't be mad at me because I like someone you hate."

His shoulders drop a bit, and he's not as tense as he was a few moments ago. "Those aren't the reasons," he tells me. "I'm not going to lie, I do hate him. He's a stupid, stuck up, lying, manipulative, ugly prick. But the fact that I hate him isn't why, either."

I tilt my head slightly, gaze softening a bit. He doesn't really like acknowledging this. Not our friendship, but how deep it goes. He doesn't like to let anyone know that he holds me as a lifeline as much as I do him. "Then why?" I question.

"Because he's a stupid, stuck up, lying, manipulative, ugly prick. Duh. Weren't you listening to what I just said?"

I roll my eyes slightly, but can't help but grin. I can tell his resolve is melting. The jealousy is still there, just like it will probably always be. Until the gap between us is filled, each of us is going to be just a bit jealous of anyone who is taking up the others time; it's just the way it will be. Once everything is back to normal, though, we won't have to be so...paranoid. As soon as everything is secure, and we're sure we won't loose each other again.

That sounded so gay, didn't it? You know what I mean though.

"He's nice," I tell him. "He's like, incredibly sweet and sensitive. Plus he's cute," I tease.

"I have to agree with Spinner," Craig says. I snap my attention over to him, blushing slightly when I remember there are other people here. "I've heard some bad things about this Slade guy."

Spinner grins, reaching forward to give him a small high five. "Thank you dude."

"Don't encourage him," I say.

"Seriously," Spinner begins, "the guy is bad news. He has a reputation. He's a total player. Love 'em and loose 'em; that's the way the dude works. You know Taylor McCarthy? Well, he dated him for a little while."

Craig leans a bit, crossing his arm over the table. "You mean the Taylor McCarthy who's been on anti-depressants for the past month?"

Spinner nods in the affirmative. "Yeah. I heard he fell for Slade, like hard, then as soon as they did the deed, Slade tossed him out before he even got his boxers back on."

"He's not on anti-depressants," Jimmy interjects. "He's always like that. And I heard that he and Slade dated, but he was the one who tossed Slade out."

"No way," Craig says.

I look at them all, my eyes darting from face to face. "How do you people know all of this stuff?" I ask them.

Ignoring Craig and Jimmy -which is probably a good idea, since I don't think they have any idea what their talking about- Spinner continues. "Look, Marco, you know what I mean, right? Slade is bad news."

I nod. "Yeah, I know. You just don't want me to get hurt. But I'm fine Spin, really. You are going to be totally embarrassed when I come back from our date and tell you all that he was the perfect gentlemen. Just you wait and see."

-

It's Friday, finally! Not that I've been just waiting for this night to come, or anything. No...I've got more important things to do. Like homework, spells, potions, and angsting over certain people. But no more, because -for tonight anyway- I am just a normal teenage boy, going out with another normal teenage boy. I find myself smiling as I practically frolic down the hallway.

What can I say? Well, I think Kurt Cobain said it best when he said 'I think I'm just happy'. And hey, I have a right to be happy. Spinner's not angry with me anymore for accepting Slade's invitation -just as long as I promise to give him excrutaiting details of our date so he can know if he needs to kill Slade for something later-, I've been doing much better with my spells, I got my room back, and I haven't seen or heard from dream guy in a while.

Which, to be honest, kind of freaked me out at first. Yes, I know he's probably evil and everything, but for a long time -when I had come out to Spinner, right after my bashing and everything, when I didn't really have anyone else- he gave me a twisted sense of comfort. He would be there, holding me, whispering to me as he did. I never really understood what they were before, so I could always just imagine that he was there to help me out with things; to give me support in my dreams when I couldn't get them in real life. Now that I know what he's saying -and what he's doing- I don't necessarily feel 'comforted' by him in any way, shape, or form. Well...except for that last time. It reminded me of the other dreams, the ones before he was cutting me and laying claims on me; when he was just there, holding me and soothing me, no daggers or molesting being involved in any other way.

I kind of miss that, in a sick, demented sort of way.

And that is just one of the man reasons that I need to get out tonight. I just need to get my mind away from everything, and everyone.

As I make my way to the front doors, I spot Spinner standing at the entrance. My grin widens and I lift my hand to wave at him, but stop when I see the slightly angered expression on his face. I look around, seeing everyone else caught up in their own conversations, with no one really paying attention to him. I near him, hoping that I might be able to help with whatever is bothering him. On closer inspection, however, I see Paige standing in front of him, the expression of anger and frustration mirrored on her own face.

"You're blowing me off for the vampire queen?" Spinner says angrily, one hand raised and gesturing just outside the glass doors. I stand on my tip toes -I can't see over Spin; curse my shortness- to see Ellie leaning against the hand rails of the steps, biting her lower lip in a nervous fashion as she chews on her nails.

Paige narrows her eyes. "No, I'm blowing you off for Ellie," she retorts.

"Same thing!"

"All right, hun," she says, the usually sweet pet name coming out a bit sarcastically. "Let me tell you something. One; you just called me out of the blue two days ago and practically demand we go out tonight, without even asking me."

"Asking you?" he says, sounding astonished. "I'm sorry, last time I checked you were my girlfriend. Usually I don't have to ask if you want to go out with me!"

Ignoring him, she continues. "Two; Ellie and I had plans before you decided that you and I did. I'm not just going to break my promise to her."

He tilts his head to the side. "Why not? It's not like she's your...oh I don't know...boyfriend or anything!"

"Three; don't call her a vampire queen, mistress, or anything else. Call her Ellie. And four..." she trails off, shifting to the side.

Tapping a sneaker clad foot on the floor impatiently, and putting one hand on his hip -I will laugh- he waits for her to continue. "Yes?" he asks.

"Four; you don't have any right to yell at me about breaking plans for a friend."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means! Ellie is coming over to my place tonight, and she's staying all weekend. I don't want to hear from you once, okay? She's my friend, and right now she " she tells him, shaking her head a bit. "Yeah, comfort."

"So you're going to spend all weekend comforting her?"

"...yes....that's exactly what we'll be doing."

He looks a little confused. His mood brightens slightly. "Well then why can't I come over? I'm good with comfort. Just ask Marco."

She blinks, looking slightly angry. "You've been comforting with Marco?" she nearly screeches. He raises and eyebrow and she shifts again.

"Just exactly how do **you** comfort people?" he asks.

"That's none of your business," she tells him, her cheeks flushing pink. "You know what, if you really want to go out tonight, why don't **you **go ask Marco. It's not like the two of you don't spend enough time together or anything."

With that she turns on her heel and storms off, pushing past the glass doors. Spinner stands there, blinking after her. I lean to my side, reaching out and pressing a palm to some random locker to steady myself. I see Paige walking out, Ellie immediately sliding away from the railing to reach her. I squint, trying to make out whatever words are exchanged between them. Unfortunately, I am no lip reader. Paige says something, her hands moving around wildly as she continues to speak. Ellie tell her something and rests her hand lightly on the other girl's shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Her hands slides down, and I watch in confusion -and a bit of pride for how brave she is being- as Ellie threads her pale fingers through Paige's. She gives Ellie a surprised, but genuine smile, and the two begin heading off.

Maybe I'm reading to much into it. I mean, I've seen plenty of girls walking around together, holding each others hands or linking their arms, or even practically attached to each other, and their just friends. (1) Still...it's kind of...suspicious. I grin a little, blushing. Suddenly I wish I had a little 'Go Ellie' banner that I could wave up and down after them, and I have the urge to squeal at their cuteness like some type of random fangirl...or err...fanboy.

Craig was right. I really am a freak.

I walk up to Spinner, who still looks a bit dazed and confused as he watches them walk away. He looks kind of...cute. Mentally I slap myself, riding my mind of the thought. Gently I poke him in the back. He jumps forward, letting out a girly shriek of surprise, and I laugh a bit. He turns back to look at me, glaring.

"Dude, don't sneak up on me like that," he tells me.

I roll my eyes and shift the bag on my shoulder. "I wasn't sneaking," I inform him. A somewhat awkward moment passes, and I bite my lip. "So how are...things?" I ask.

He raises an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. "Things are...fine," he answers slowly.

I nod, then turn my attention back the door. We both stand -probably looking really 'special' as we have dumbstruck expressions on our faces- watching Paige and Ellie as they round the corner, retreating from our gazes.

"Hey Marco," he says, never tearing his gaze away from the doors.

Not turning towards him either I ask, "Yeah Spin?"

"You're a girl. What exactly is the definition of comfort in woman speak? Especially when this comfort is going on at a girls only weekend at Paige's empty house?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know. I don't specialize in Paige dialect," I answer.

We both turn to face each other in unison. I stare up at him, noticing that his facial expression is dropping slightly. I sigh, lifting up my hand to give his arm a reassuring squeeze. He sighs a little and then jerks his head the side, silently asking if I want an escort home. Smiling, I push the door open slightly and take a few steps outside, holding the door open for him. He steps outside and I let the door slam shut.

"Ouch!"

Spinner and I -who had already reached the top step and were beginning to head home- stop abruptly. Exchanging apprehensive glances -and a bit of gulping in fear on my part- we both turn our heads side ways, looking to see a **very **frustrated looking Mrs. Kwan standing in the doorway, holding what looks to be a bloody nose, with books and papers spread out around her everywhere.

Oops...

My first instinct is to apologize profusely and help her pick up everything, then volunteer for Saturday detention to think about my actions as well as write a letter of apology for being so careless as to let the door slam without looking to see if the spawn of Satan...I mean the English teacher was behind me. This urge is quickly squashed by two things; one is my common sense, beating me over the head for even thinking about volunteering for detention, and the other is Spinners hand around my arm, quickly pulling me away from the crime.

"Mr. Gavin Mason! Mr. Marco Del Rossi! You two get back here right now!" she yells at us.

I allow Spinner to pull me down the sidewalk, the sound of our sneakers pounding against the pavement seeming to ring in my ears. Finally we reach the stop sign, meaning that we are a safe distance away from the school. We both come to a stop. I bend my knees, letting one hand rest against my thigh as I take in a few deep breaths. A few loose bangs of dark hair are in my eyes, and I try to blow them away. I pout slightly when it doesn't work, instead shaking my head, only causing more hair to fall in front of my eyes. I blink, trying to get them away, and huff heavily, trying the blowing -shut up- approach again.

"Stupid...bangs..." I mutter angrily still trying to shake them away.

A soft chuckling reaches my ears, and -momentarily giving up in my struggles- I look over to see Spinner laughing at me. "What?" I ask him.

"You...you look like...nothing," he says, shaking his head. "What the hell are you doing anyway?"

Glaring at him from underneath the mass of dark bangs I reply, "Trying to get my hair out of my eyes."

He stands up -he was bending down a bit too- dragging me upwards, causing me to stand straight up. Still laughing softly he says, "You know, there are these things. Their called, hands," he tells me, lifting his right hand and waving it in front of my house. "They come in handy for all kinds of things, such as punching snotty grade 12 who are trying to get your best friend into bed, groping pretty blonds, and removing hair from your eyes. You can order your very own pair of these helpful limbs by calling the number on your screen. Credit cards are accepted, please no COD's."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Smart ass," I mumble, once again trying to flip my hair to the side. Shaking his head, he absently lifts his hand and tucks my hair behind my ears.

Now, if it were anyone but him, I probably would have taken that gesture the wrong way. But it is Spinner, and it's just what he does. I smile at him, absently noticing that he still has a firm grip on my arm.

For some reason, I don't find myself caring.

"Do you want to come over tonight?" I ask him. "We could stay up late, watch that Tripping the Rift marathon on Sci-Fi, make smores..."

"Talk about boys?" he adds, grinning a bit.

"Of course," I answer. My smile falters a bit then. Boys...Slade...tonight.

His face falls slightly, but it is quickly replaced with a small. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You're going on your night of fun filled statutory rape with Slade." He gives me a big grin and pats my shoulder. "Bring me back a t-shirt!"

I grab his arm, wheeling him around to face me when he begins walking away. I see something in his eyes flash -in anger, sadness, betrayal?- and he pulls his arm away. With a sigh I open my mouth, trying to find something to say.

"Forget about Slade," I tell him. His head snaps up, eyes meeting mine. "I'll just tell him that we can go out another time."

He blinks once or twice, an almost bewildered look crossing his face. "You're gonna skip your date with him...for me? Dude, that's like...big." He shakes his head. "No; I can't let you do that dude."

Now it is my turn to stare at him, a bit confused. "What? Hey," I tell him, once again reached out to grab his arm when he begins walking. "You try your best to tell me what a jerk this guy is, and then when I offer to break it, you tell me not to? What goes on in that little brain of yours, Spin?" I ask him, trying to keep it light, and hiding to fight back the slight irritation and disappointment in my voice.

"Lots of stuff," he answers matter-of-factly. "Look, I don't want you to go out with Slade, but I don't want you skipping out on the date with your blue eyed God just because you feel sorry for me. We'll hang out another time."

"Spin!" I yell, wrapping my arms around his wrist, tugging on his arm slightly. "Don't be like this." He stops again and turns to face me. I look up, our gazes meeting, and I nearly stumble back with the emotion I found there. He's angry; even angrier then he got with Slade at the locker that day. I gulp slightly, suddenly feeling a bit of fear edging its way into my mind. I shake my head, mentally slapping myself. It's Spinner; he'd never hurt me. He's just upset, and I can probably guess what it's about. "Just come over. We can talk about anything. Slade, school...Paige," I say softly.

Narrowing his eyes, he hisses his answer out, sounding rather angry and irritated. "Forget about Paige. You know what, she can go 'comfort' with Ellie all she wants. And you can just go let Slade fuck your brains out. Frankly, I just don't give a shit!" With that he pushes me away, causing me to stumble back. I trip over my own shoelace, falling back onto the ground.

I look up at him, blinking back tears as I do. I can practically see the apology falling from his lips, but he holds it back, instead taking a few slow steps away from me. His mouth opens and closes, then he merely shakes his head, turning around and running down the opposite direction towards his house.

Sniffling a bit, I pick up my backpack and swing it over my shoulders, then begin heading towards my house. I wrap each hand around the straps, ignoring the warm tears that run down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I continue walking. What was wrong with him? Was it me? Did I do something to upset him? He looked so...so angry...and the way his eyes...he looked almost like I had betrayed him.

I swing the front door open, thankful that my ma and papa are busy doing something in the kitchen -what it is, I don't want to know. I really, really, **really **don't want to know- and not questioning me as to why I'm crying. I hardly even know. I mean, it didn't hurt that bad when I fell. I might have a bruise on my back or something tomorrow, but that's probably about it.

__

And you can just let Slade go fuck your brains out. Frankly, I don't give a shit.

Oh yeah, that's why I'm crying.

I can't believe...I mean I can believe he said it, but I can't. He sounded so cold; so emotionless, just like he did when he looked me in the eye and sneered at me about my 'big gay crush' on Dylan. And he pushed me. He's never, ever hit me before. The time when he decided to pound me into the ground with the volleyballs was about as psychical as he's ever gotten.

When I reach my room, I allow my bag to drop to the floor. I fall onto my bed, burying my face into my pillow cases. Over my soft sobbing, I hear Mozzy jumping up onto the bed, walking over to me.

__

Rom Baro? Are you all right? What happened? she asks me. When I don't answer her, she nuzzles the back of my neck, curling up against my back. _Tell me what happened, _she says softly.

I push myself up slightly, wiping away a few tears with my hand before answering her. "S-Spinner and me...we got into a fight. I think I really made him mad. I don't know what I did to make him so angry, but I just..." I trail off a bit unsurely, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill.

She climbs into my lap, rubbing her silky black head underneath my chin. _It's all right. No lessons tonight, okay Rom Baro?_

I nod, thankful for the break. I lay down, keeping my arms wrapped around her warm body, still sniffling as I rest my head against my pillow. I look over at the alarm clock, groaning slightly when I see the numbers flashing on the screen.

__

Don't worry. I'll wake you up when he comes by. You just get some rest right now.

"Th-thanks Mozzy," I tell her, then allow my eyes to drift closed. I try not to remember his angry words, the tone, they way he looked at me...

__

Frankly, I just don't give a shit...

---

(1) I personally did that. I have a bunch of younger friends who like jumping up behind me and giving me hugs, then link arms with me or attach themselves to me in some way. My boyfriend kept asking me what was up with that. I freaked him out and told him 'Oh, we're just friends. With benefits!' Then I'd giggle and pretend to grope the person sitting on my lap. No wonder we broke up...

-yawning- It's around 11, so that's why the chapter isn't very good, and has such a sucky ending.

Marco: You make me cry a lot.

You do cry a lot.

Spinner: You're pretty when you cry. -beings some comforting of his own-

God you two, get a room! -cough- Anyway so, please review, I'll have the next chapter up...as soon as I write it. Come back again to learn the answers to these other burnings questions...

Spinner: -pulls himself away from groping Marco to ask burning questions- Ahem; why was I so upset? Will Marco and Slade really go out on their date? What **is** Paige's form of comfort? Will me and Marco every make up? Will I finally get to molest my pleasure slave?

Marco: I thought it was sex slave...

Spinner: Pleasure slave isn't as vulgar.

Marco: Ohhhhh. Review!


	10. Chapter Ten: First Date

Disclaimer: When Mozzy teaches me how to control minds, then, and only then will I own anything that is in this story.

Author's Notes: Wow, I haven't updated in a **long **time, have I? Sorry! My computers were all...crazy. Also, I just started school a few weeks ago, and my classes are all freaky. Honestly, why they put me in an Honors Math class is beyond me.

Review Responses

mydracomalfoy: Muwhahaha! Yet another person I have corrupted into the wonders of Spinner/Marco slash. Ah, I'm on your favorites? Thank you so much!

Bridget N: Oh, now you see, I can't tell you that just yet. That's why I keep adding chapters to this thing. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you liked it!

KinseySix: -waves- Hi! Did ya miss me? I can't believe you held those chapters hostage for so long. Meanie. But hey look, now I'm updating, so that means you have to as well! And don't feel bad for loving Manny, I love everyone. Except Catlin. –twitch-

Fox Eye: Actually, my cafeteria food was pretty good last year, but I'm cool this year and I bring my lunch! Yeah, fun crying Marco at the end. Thanks for the review!

Fucted Up Kid: Glad you liked the way I started the chapter. Yes, everyone is oblivious! Spinner will stop making Marco cry...eventually. If you go to you can find out any and all information about everyone. I can't wait for your Veela fic. It looks really good! I wish you good luck with that, and your title.

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: -blushing- You really did change your title, and you dedicated one of the best chapters to me! I feel loved! I hope you update Fits Like a Glove soon, it's so good. Thanks for the review!

Enigmus: Marco and Spinner will get together sooner or later. And it's just fun abusing Marco. Thank you for reviewing!

eclipsed: Ah, thank you! Your review was so sweet. It made me happy. –huggles- And thanks, I tried to keep them in character as much as possible. Thanks for reviewing!

anjel919: I named it subtle for two reasons. 1) It is subtle in the way that Spinner shows his jealous, well, to Marco anyway. 2) It's not subtle, so it's kind of an ironic title. I don't think I'm too hard on myself...-shrugs- But thank you so much for the kind review!

just-nikki: Is that really what goes on at soccer practice? I might just have to start playing that now. See, I'm updating! Thanks for the review!

Cyanide Anytime: Yeah, it's fun to abuse Marco. Spinner will come back...-cough- Thanks for the review!

RiseAgainPhoenix: I love your name! It makes me think of AFI **and **Harry Potter; which makes me think of Davey and Ron, and then you don't want to no where my train of thought goes. Oh, if I'm a pioneer, do I get a shiny helmet? Thanks for the review!

torian princess: Thank you for reviewing! Yeah, it is obvious...to everyone but Marco. Heh. Hope you like this chapter!

smoothNcreamy: Glad you liked the last chapter and thank you for the review.

almost-never: The Date was originally going to be in that chapter, but I got distracted. –cough- I tend to ramble. You quoted. Yay! It makes me happy when people quote! Thanks for the review!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: I kick ass? for me! Thanks for the review!

Isdule07: Yes, Pleasure slave. It's a fun term. I've told all my friends that Marco is my sexy little Italian pleasure slave, and they think I'm insane. –shrugs- Sniffle, yay! Thanks for reviewing!

Whoa, that was a **lot **of reviews. Thank you everyone. Special thanks to KinseySix who reminded me to get off my lazy arse and update, and Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies for dedicating a lovely chapter of her own wonderful Spinner/Marco fic to me.

---

**Chapter Ten: First Date**

I think it's around 8:25 when there is a loud knock on my door, and my ma's worried voice reaches my ears. My eye lids begin to rise groggily, only to snap shut again when the hall light slips through the crack of my door, burning my already stinging eyes -due to all the crying, of course.

"Marco?" she asks, pushing the door open and poking her head in slightly. "Honey, are you awake?"

I yawn, nodding my head since I can't seem to answer. She smiles to me softly, then enters the room, walking over and taking a seat on the bed. Her hands run through a few locks of my hair, then move down to my cheek, brushing away a few tears. "Are you all right?"

I nod again, pushing myself up onto my elbows. "Yeah ma, I'm fine. Is dinner ready?" I ask her, suddenly becoming aware of an ache in my stomach.

"No," she tells me, shaking her head. "Someone is here to see you. That Slade boy. You remember, the one who came over for dinner? He said that you and he had plans to go see some type of concert tonight."

I blink a few times, my brain not seeming to comprehend what she has just told me. Suddenly, the hazy, sleep induced fog around my mind lifts, and there is a tiny click echoing in my head.

Date...tonight...with Slade...and I haven't even taken a shower yet!

I quickly jump out of bed, avoiding my ma's figure as I land on my feet. "Can you tell him I'll be down in twenty minutes?" I ask her, looking over my shoulder as I rush over to my closet.

She stands up slowly, nodding her head. "All right, I'll be sure to tell him. Do you need me to help you find anything?"

"No," I tell her, running from the closet to the dresser. "I just need some time to –ah!" I scream in pain a bit, scowling as I look down, only to see a large spell book lying on the floor. I pull my foot up, wrapping my hands around it and rubbing my thumb over my abused toe. Determined, I grit my teeth, doing the 'wee-wee' jump over to my dresser. I begin opening and closing doors quickly, pulling out some socks. "I just need some more time to get ready. I lost track of – Armaya! (1)" I narrow my eyes at the drawer. "Beng...(2)" I hiss at it.

"Uh...honey?" she questions hesitantly.

I look over at her, realizing that I have just been cursing inanimate objects in another language. I giver her a small smile, mentally banging myself in the head with something hard and blunt for being so careless as to when I use the little Romany I know.

"I'm fine ma," I assure her, wincing a bit at the ever present throbbing pain in my toe and finger.

She gives me a worried glance, then sighs. "If you're sure. I'll just go and tell Slade that you'll be down in a few moments."

Hesitating slightly -because I can tell all she wants to do is walk over here and kiss my 'boo boo'- she nods and goes to the door, blowing me a kiss before exiting my room. I quickly shed my shirt and pants, throwing them onto the bed. I grab some socks -that match, this time-, a black, somewhat figure hugging shirt that has a picture of Brandon Flowers with the words Hot Fuss written below it (3) -Ellie took me to Hot Topic to get it, just for this occasion-, and a pair of...pink hot pants.

Err...let's not go with those.

I sink to my knees, beginning to throw random items of clothes over my shoulder. Don't I have any decent pants?

_What about those ones you wore for Halloween? _Mozzy suggests. I turn my head to see her stretching out along the end of the bed, yawning softly. I raise an eyebrow at her, shaking my head.

"You mean the ones that I couldn't breath in?"

_Yeah, those.___

"I can't wear those! Not on a date!"

She sits up, tilting her head to the side as she watches me. _And why not?__ I think you look just fine in them. _

I can feel a blush rising to my cheeks, and shift a bit in my position in front of the dresser before answering. "I don't want to look..."__

_Look what?_

"Easy!"

Small, cat eyes blink at me once or twice in confusion before she hops down off the bed. She stalks closer to me, stopping once she's right beside my knees. _Easy...?_she asks me.

"Like...you know. **Easy**."

_Oh...you mean like you're desperate for a lay?_

"...yeah."

_Aren't you?_

"No!"I glare at her, dark eyes narrowing in my slight anger. "What do you think I am? Some type of hormonal, sexually frustrated teenage boy who thinks with his pants instead of his brain?!"

_Well...**duh**, _she says, rolling her eyes. A soft sigh escapes my lips, but I shake my head, deciding that I'd rather not continue with this conversation. Besides, I've still got to get ready.

I jump up and rush to the bathroom, quickly brushing my teeth, slapping on some deodorant and cologne, before trying to smooth my hair out of the pillow induce fro I've found it in. I grab a bottle of hair gel and coat my hands, running it through my dark locks, attempting to tame it down slightly. I frown, grimacing when I look in the mirror.

Note to self: Hair gel plus mini-fro equals spikes.

All right, so maybe it's not that bad, but I still can't help the look of distaste that passes over my features. God, my hair is everywhere now! There are some spikes tilted to the right, while others are slicked across the left, and this just looks...awful. Biting my lip, I run to the door, leaning to the side to peer into my room, seeing that I only have about five minutes left. I click my tongue nervously, tapping my fingers against the door frame as I run through a mental debate.

Pants, or hair? Hair, or pants? Well, I need pants, but this hair really looks awful...but pants are probably more important. After all, I don't think anyone really wants to see me walking around in nothing but my boxers and a black t-shirt.

-

I walk down the stairs, shifting my hips uncomfortably as I do. Yes, I did end up wearing these God forsaken leather death traps again. I really didn't have anything better. I mean, it's not as if I **like **walking around with people thinking that I'm some type of male hooker. My black boot clad feet finally reach the bottom of the steps, and it is only now that I drag my gaze from the floor to look up, scanning my gaze around for any sight of Slade or my parents. Finally, my eyes settle on the front door, where I see my pa speaking with him.

And what a sight it is.

His midnight black hair is slicked up into spikes -much better than the defective little spears in my head- tipped with red, silver and blue. He wears a dark blue tank top that clings to his chest -not that I'm looking or anything- and a pair of hip hugging khaki pants. It's all topped off with a black leather jacket and some Nikes.

He's...so...pretty...

"Hey Marco!" Slade says happily as he turns to me. His expression turns from one of joy to one of slight bemusement as he takes in my look. I must be quite the sight myself. What with this t-shirt sticking to me like a second skin, and these leather pants so tight I can barely walk in, and plus my new Frankenstein do...I probably look like such a freak.

"Hi," I tell him smiling. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I took a nap and I guess I just...lost track of time or something."

He mirrors my smile, patting my shoulder lightly. "It's fine," he tells me. Leaning in closely to that my pa won't hear, he whispers, "It was worth the wait."

I blush a bit but offer him a weak grin at the compliment. Pa raises an eyebrow, but simply shakes his head, patting Slade and I on the shoulder before he begins to speak. Oh please, don't say anything embarrassing. Please...?

"You two boys have fun tonight. Just remember, no drinking, and no drugs. And Slade, look after my boy. He's a bit shy, but once he gets going, he's a complete lady killer! Oh, but make sure you use protection."

God...no...please no!

He turns to Slade, looking at him with an intent expression. "You have been tested, right?"

Slade blinks at him a few times, then turns to me, giving me a slightly quizzical look. "Um..." he begins, trailing off as his eyes dart to me, silently asking what in the hell this crazy Italian man is talking about.

"We gotta go pop," I murmur, grabbing Slade's hands as I begin to head out the door.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Del Rossi," he says politely as we walk through the threshold.

I can practically feel my father blinking in confusion at our hasty exit, but can you actually blame me? I mean, what if he started with the 'urges' talk again?

"Wait, boys!" I hear my ma calling. "I didn't get to take the picture...!"

Slade and I exchange somewhat horrified glances. His hand tightens around my own and we run as quickly as possible to the black Jaguar parked in front of our house. My ma is still yelling something, and I vaguely hear the faint sounds of her desperately trying to snap some photos. I don't know why she wants to get pictures, anyway; parents are just sentimental about everything these days.

I hope into the car, quickly shutting the door and doing up my seat belt. "Bye ma! Bye pop! I'll be home before 1!" I call out to them before Slade slams a Nike clad foot onto the gas pedal.

And we're off.

I let out a small sigh of relief, relaxing against the leather covered seat. Thank God. I can't believe we made it out alive! I shake my head a bit, absently wondering if I had met Slade only two months earlier, if this date would have started off the same way. Sometimes I wonder if this witch craft stuff is one of the reasons my life has been so...**off **lately.

Maybe it's just my imagination, but it seems as if things have gotten a **lot **more interesting since I discovered my magical roots. And I seem to have gotten clumsier, too –take tonight's earlier events for instance. I wonder if that's some sort of freaky side effect. I'll have to talk to Mozzy about that one.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the feeling of cool fingers running through my hair, a soft laugh following as they continue traveling to the nape of my neck. Goosebumps rise on my arms, and I can't figure out if they are there because I like this feeling, or because Slade just happens to have a ridiculously low boy temperature.

"Decided to be a bit adventurous tonight, eh Marco?" he asks me softly.

I turn to him, pouting a bit as I see the mirth sparkling beneath his icy eyes. "Oh just...shut up," I tell him, for lack of anything better to say at the moment.

He grins, shaking his head a bit. "Don't get defensive. I like it. Makes you look sexier than usual."

Thank God I'm not eating or drinking anything, because if I were, I would have just chocked to death. Instead my eyes bulge and I stare at him, blinking a rapidly as I feel a blush quickly rising to my cheeks. "Um...t-thanks," I say, trying –and failing miserably- to hide the stutter.

"Sorry," he says, giving me a confused glance. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

I shake my head. "No, you didn't. It's just...well uh...you look nice too."

It's not like I'm completely embarrassed -I'm not as innocent as everyone thinks I am; no, really, I'm not!- or anything, it's just...no one I've ever dated has been so blunt before. Well, all right, Dylan and Slade kind of **are **the only people I've ever dated, and I doubt Dylan –forthright as he may be- would have said that to me. Actually, the only people I know who are that blunt are Paige and Spinner. And Paige, well, judging by the way she's been acting with Ellie, I doubt she could care less about my sex appeal, and Spin...I doubt he'll ever tell me that I'm sexy. Unless it's some type of joke, or something.

Why am I thinking about Spinner? Now of all times. I'm on my date with Slade now. I refuse to let Spin, or anyone for that matter, interfere with the wonder that will be this date. No boo-boos, no Spinner shall hinder thy! (4)

"Thanks," I say, looking over at Slade and give him the most beaming smile I can manage. "For inviting me and everything. I mean, after all the crap and stuff..."

He raises a hand, dismissing the rest of whatever I am about to say. "Don't worry about it. I really like you Marco. I wanted you to come," he says genuinely. The honesty in his voice makes me feel like swooning.

"What's this place called again?" I ask, my hand reaching for the small lever that will pull my seat up. I hate being so short; I can barely reach the radio controls.

"The club? Oh, it's '_Mon Singe'_. I think it's French or Italian or something."

"It's French. I think it means..." I knit my brows together for a moment, linking together the few French words that I do now, and bite my lip to stop myself from laughing aloud.

He glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "What?" he asks.

Trying desperately not to laugh, I answer, "I think it means, 'my monkey'," I answer with as much as straight face I can manage.

Blinking, a smile begins tugging at his lips. "Oh my...man...dear Lord, really?" he says, his own voice seeming to shake with laughter.

"Y-yeah," I answer, letting a chuckle –all right, I know I don't chuckle, I giggle, happy?- escape me. "Did this guy **know **what it meant when he named the club?"

He shakes his head, a large grin on his face as he does so. "Doubt it. Lucas –that's his name- doesn't know much of anything. It's a miracle the club has made it this far. Actually, my dad has helped a lot. He's a total math freak. One of the best accountants in the country. Without him, Lucas would have been bankrupt before he ordered the table napkins."

I find myself smiling lightly at the thought. "So, genius runs in the family?" I question.

"Guess so, but look who's talking," he counters. "Ah, we're almost there."

He takes a sharp left turn, and within moments, we've pulled into the parking lot. Several other cars are parked, and there is a line of leather clad punk-like teens that is pouring out into the other side of the street. Guess word got around. I slide out of the car and shut my door, taking in the front of the club. It's actually really nice.

There is a large sign, the words _Mon Singe _written in cursive and in aqua neon letters. The outside is a sleek black, with neon lines of blue, white and gold surrounding the sides, highlighting all the signs advertising different beer logos. It looks pretty classy from the outside.

"Shall we?" Slade questions, sliding his arm through mine. I nod to him, surveying the group of teens, and adults I've realized, lining the streets. As I look out at them, I see that there aren't any women, at least none that are visible. I begin to ask Slade about this odd coincidence, when my common sense kicks in.

It's a gay bar.

The Killers are playing at a gay bar.

That makes me ridiculously happy!

Slade leads me up to the front of the line, ignoring the curses that are spit his way for cutting. He gives a grin to the bouncer –a man of at least 7 ft. who bears a strange resemblance to Mr. T- shakes his hand.

"Evening, Deck," he says.

He gives a nod of acknowledgement. "Good evening to you, Mr. Avron. Is this your...guest?" he asks.

Nodding, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. "Yeah. Luc's expecting us. See 'ya later?" he asks.

"Of course. Go on in," he says, stepping back and opening the glass door, making a motion with his hand, signaling us inside.

I nod in appreciation and Slade leads me inside. The inside of this place is just as nice as the outside, but it's still what you would expect a regular dance club to look like. Black walls, red walls nearer to the tables, flashing lights, a huge bar, and a large stage towards the back, where I can just make out Mark helping Ronnie set up his drums.

This is so cool...

"Wow," I breath, taking in the of it all. "This is so, awesome," I comment.

"I figured you'd like it," he comments smiling. "So, you want something to drink?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I nod. "Here..." I begin, reaching into my pocket for a few dollars.

He grabs my hand, brining up to his lips to place a kiss on my palm. "No need, Marco. It's all on me tonight." He winks then turns to walk towards the bar.

I watch him as he strides confidently over to the bar, placing his elbows on the top and leaning against the bar top, calling a bar tender over –by name, just like with the bodyguard- and chatting a while before ordering the drinks. They talk a bit longer, and after a few moments Slade jerks his thumb towards me, and the bar tender looks over at me. I smile and give a small wave, which Slade returns before turning back and grabbing the drinks. He makes a motion with his head, motioning towards one of the tables in the back. Realizing he wants me to follow, I make my way through the small crowd of people and make my way over to him.

I sit down next to him, taking the drink he slides me with a smile. I look down at it, raising an eyebrow at the lightly colored liquid.

"Is this apple juice?" I question stupidly.

He blinks at me for a moments before a laugh escapes his lips. "No," he says, shaking his head.

"Oh," I say, a bit embarrassed. "So...what is it?"

"Cocktail. Or, to be more precise, an Aruba Smash."

I blink at him, mouth gaping slightly. "A...c-cocktail?"

And please, don't point out the irony of me drinking a 'cocktail' in a gay bar, because this is just not the time for that perverted-ness.

He nods to me, taking a sip of his own drink. "Yeah. It's nothing to bad. Some spiced rum, 7-Up, lemon juice, orange juice, pretty good, actually. Try it," he tells me.

I recall my pops earlier words. _'No drugs, no drinking...use protection'_. I can't...he can't really be expecting me to drink this, can he? He must be joking. I watch him watch me, and he gives me a confused glance.

"Do you want me to get you something else? I could get you an Aruba, or an Aruba Punch..."

"No," I tell him, cutting him off. "This is fine."

Which it is. Isn't it? He obviously didn't think anything of it, like he expects this to be no big deal. If it's not to him, then it won't be to me. I lift it up the cup and bring it to my lips, hesitating for only a moment before I take a sip, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat. It doesn't taste all that bad. In fact, I think I can make out the sour flavoring of the lemon juice more than I can the rum. I'm not saying it's good, though. On the contrary. If it wasn't for this circumstance, and this circumstance **alone**, I probably never would have touched this stuff. No that I think about it, I don't think I'll ever touch this stuff again.

I gulp the rest of it down, deciding that it will be easier just to swallow it now instead of enduring it's spicy bitterness sip by sip. I put the glass back on the table top and shake my head, shuddering a bit at the after taste left sticking to my mouth. I look over to see Slade has just finished his own drink and has placed it next to mine. His eyes move over to me, and he smiles, moving closer and wrapping an arm around me. I sigh, leaning in to him, grabbing my jacket with my other hand, since he does seem freakishly cold.

Even though I don't want to, I think about Spinner. I remember that awful fiasco at Halloween, when everyone was hell bent on making me their 'sex slave'. I remember Spinner pulling me into his lap, and how warm he was. I compare them, they way they feel, how strong their arms are, and I mentally slap myself. Date with blue eyed God here! Why am I thinking about him?

I tilt my head, smiling at him, and I suddenly wish that he would kiss me. Maybe if he does, I can forget about the whole mess with Spin. And, as if there really **is **someone up there looking out for me, he cranes his neck and lowers his head, gently covering his lips with mine.

He tastes like rum and hot chocolate, replacing my Aruba Smash with a bitter sweet taste, that I find I enjoy a lot more than the mixture of orange and lemon juice. He wraps his cool hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him, and I comply without hesitation. He's soft, and I can't help but love this feeling as his other arm comes up around me. I feel safe, and protected, 

The kiss ends and I pull back a little, leaving only four or five inches between our lips. I meet his eyes, and they are sparkling with some kind of emotion I can't place, but it makes my stomach do a flip flop. I lick my lips, tasting alcohol and sweetness, making me sigh happily and rest my head against his shoulder.

"Hey," he whispers in my ear, and I shiver, still not knowing if I can link it to the sound of his smooth voice or the cool body I'm pressed against. "I think the show is about to start."

I tilt my head a bit, seeing that Brandon and David have joined their other band mates. Excited as I am, I realize that I'm going to have to get up now, and I really don't want to do that. Slade is just And I think I might get more kisses if we stay like this.

Despite my inner protests, I stand, smiling when his arms stay wrapped around me. We make our way through a throng of people up the front. Brandon steps in front of the microphone, smiling out at all of us as he begins to speak.

"Hello, how is everyone doing tonight?" he asks.

An echo of screaming is heard in the back ground, and I realize just exactly how many people are in here. I lift my hand and give a rock on symbol, along with Slade and just about every other guy in here.

"All right! Well, since it seems we don't have any ladies slowing us down tonight..." he says, winking, earning another round of cheers and a few cat calls, "...let's get this show started!"

Music begins to fill the club, and I feel the same arms that were wrapped around me turning me around. He pulls me closer and grins, and I feel heat flooding to my face. I've never really danced with a guy, but hey, I guess there's a first for everything, right?

_Breaking my back just to know your name  
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game  
I'm breaking my back just to know your name  
But heaven ain't close in a place like this  
Anything goes but don't blink you might miss  
Cause heaven ain't close in a place like this  
I said heaven ain't close in a place like this  
Bring it back down, bring it back down tonight  
Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight_

And boy, can he dance. He moves like...well like a person shouldn't be able to. For a few moments, I'm completely entranced, then a little voice –that sounds a lot like Mozzy- kicks in and tells me to stop gawking like an idiot and bust a few moves of my own.

Maybe I should be worried that I have voices in my head –especially voice that say such things as 'bust a move'- but I decided that I'll analyze it later. Right now, I'm just going to forget about everything, and try to have a good time. One that doesn't involve witches, confusing friends, or voices.

_Well somebody told me  
You had a boyfriend  
Who looks like a girlfriend  
That I had in February of last year  
It's not confidential  
I've got potential_

-

A two hours later, and the concert is over. It was the most fun I've had in months. Dancing, singing at the top of my lungs –and very off tune, but whatever- making out, and just doing whatever. I haven't been able to just...you know...**be **for a few hours in such a long time. Always worrying about everything around me, never having any time to just breath and relax; not like tonight, anyway. I think I needed this. No, I **know **I needed this. I think I was beginning to go a little crazy dealing with everything. I just needed some time to unwind a bit.

Currently, I am back at our original table, finishing off another Aruba Smash –it's only my third, and my last; I can't even **fake **liking these things anymore- before we head off home. I wonder if Slade should be driving, but he's only had one. Now I know, I'm smart, and I've seen about three hundred after school specials and had around five hundred more talks about how it just takes one for you to mess up, especially driving, but I'm not being responsible tonight. I'm just going with the flow. So, even though I know I should, and I'm probably going to regret it in the morning, I don't care.

"...ready?" I ask, looking down at Slade as I slide out of the booth.

He nods, smiling. "Yeah." He stands up, grabbing his coat and swinging it over his shoulder. Again he wraps his arm around me and leads me out of the club, waving to random people every now and then. We walk through the doors, stopping only to say goodbye to Decker, before heading out to the car.

"So," he asks as we both get into our sides of the car. "Did you...have a good time?" he finishes, almost nervously.

"Of course," I tell him, leaning over to press a kiss to his neck before we start going.

He starts the car and we head off, going down the road as fast as the speed limit will allow. One hand falls off the steering wheel and snakes over to me, grabbing me around the waist to pull me closer. We near a red light and he slows, turning his head and pulling me into a kiss when we come to a complete halt.

It's probably not smart to be somewhat drunk and making out when you're driving, but hey, like I said earlier, I'm not caring tonight. He pulls away only after we hear someone honking for the fifth time in a row. I continue kissing his neck, for reasons completely unknown to me, since it's obviously distracting him. I move back after a few minutes, breathing heavily as I look out the window, barely catching a small green sign with the word Degrassi written on it.

Um...we weren't supposed to pass my house.

And then it hits me.

He's not taking me home.

---

(1) It means 'curses' in Romany.

(2) It means 'evil' in Romany. I actually did curse my computer as beng the other day. Yeah, my mommy thinks I'm totally insane now.

(3) Brandon Flowers is the -incredibly good looking and talented- lead singer of The Killers. I don't know if that's a real shirt, or not. I should have looked to see, but I didn't, because I'm lazy. I didn't see any of their shirts at Hot Topic either, but it seems like the most likely place for one to obtain 'The Killers' t-shirt.

(4) My friend had a picture with Cloud –Final Fantasy 7- and Squall –Final Fantasy 8- and it said 'No Cloud, No Squall, shall hinder us.' I thought it was funny as heck!

Firstly, I would like to say that I am in no way condoning underage drinking, or driving the least bit drunk. There are serious consequences for both, and their **never **worth it. Secondly, juding by The Killers lyrics, I don't know if they would play at a gay bar. It just sort of...happened. Now that that's over with...

Spinner: Hey! He molested Marco. That's not right! –grabs Marco- Mine.

Marco: -sighs-

Yes, Spinner, we know, yours.

Marco: Please review. Sorry for the late update, she'll try to update sooner next time.

Bye!


	11. Chapter Eleven: Hate To Say I Told You S...

Disclaimer: Wow, I've still yet to complete the next step of my world take over and buy the rights to Degrassi. Oh, well.

Author's Notes: I got a nice response for the last chapter. Thank ya'll muchly!

Spinner: She was so proud that she actually wrote the next chapter.

Marco: Yeah. All jumping around and hyper...it was disturbing.

Hush! Now, it's time for review responses.

KinseySix: You're review cracked me up, because we have dubbed one of my guy friends the man-whore. It's really sad. Yay, it makes me happy to know you're working on 'Pretty Girl'. And as for Slade and Spinner...you'll find out. Thanks for the review.

Fucted up Kid: Were you the one who wanted the autograph? Cause if you are, here you go! As for the reason why Marco kept mentioning how cold Slade was; whenever I'm touching someone –not **that **way- one of the first things I notice is if their warm or cold. I happen to be one of those people who are always freakishly cold, and have it pointed out to me often, so it seems like something you might think about a person you were with. Thanks for reviewing!

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: We had superhero day at school –for Homecoming- and someone dressed up as the ninja turtles! I've been saying lurve lately, which I just thought was odd. My Chemical Romance makes so happy it's not even funny. It's actually kind of sad. –shakes head- I hope you start working on 'Fits Like a Glove' soon. Thank you for reviewing!

mydracomalfoy: No, my Draco! –laughs- Just kidding. He's nice, but I want Ron. Don't ask. Here's your update. Thanks for reviewing!

anjel1919: Addicted to this story? Wow, your review was so nice, and it made me happy. I'm glad I could help you see the wonders of Spinner/Marco. Thanks for the review!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: People had lost faith that I would update! One of your favorites? I feel special now. Thanks for reviewing!

Bridget N: Marco may very well be in trouble. And as for Spinner rescuing him...well...you'll just have to read that for yourself. –winks- Thank you for reviewing!

---

**Chapter Eleven: Hate To Say I Told You So**

"Slade?" I ask softly, if not a bit slurred, as I turn my head back, watching with dropping eyes as we drive even farther away from the clearly illuminated Degrassi street. "Where are we...where are you taking me?" I ask him.

His eyes drift towards me, a warm smile spread on his face as he answers. "Some place special," he tells me in a voice that makes me practically melt inside. He reaches out with his hand, running his fingertips over my cheek bone before returning his attention to the road in front of us.

Some place special. I settle back against the seat and grab the seat belt, securing it in place, since I really don't feel like getting in a fatal accident tonight. I wonder where he's taking me. I glance at him, and am suddenly filled with a whirl wind of conflicting emotions. Excitement, guilt, joy, and fear.

I can understand why I would be excited. Honestly, who wouldn't be? If the gorgeous guy of your dreams were taking you some place he thought was 'special' you couldn't help but be excited. The guilt I kind of get. It's the Spin factor, hovering in the back of my mind as always, knowing that he really doesn't want me to be here. The joy, well, because I'm pretty sure that I'm going to get to make out again, and who wouldn't be happy about that? Fear...fear because I don't know why. There's this small voice –yeah, another one, but it sounds more like Spinner- that's telling me something isn't right. That he should be taking me home. That I don't really want to go anywhere 'special', that I just want to go home and crawl underneath the covers.

Shaking my head a bit, I decide that both of the voices in my head are stupid, and I shouldn't be listening to them anyway. I don't have anything to be afraid of. Slade wouldn't hurt me. I just...he wouldn't.

Alcohol makes my head hurt. I don't think I'll ever be trying that stuff again. I press my palm to my forehead, taking in a few deep breaths to calm myself. My ma and pop would hang me if they ever found out I was drinking tonight. They would yell at me about how I should have known better, how I was smarter than that, how I shouldn't give into peer pressure because I'm better than all of that. I really, **really **don't want to hear any of that in the near future. There is only so much of that 'you were supposed to know better/I expected more from you' one person can take before they finally just break down and give up completely.

Brooding isn't smart to do when you're drunk. It makes your head hurt more.

Before I know it, we're pulling up to the park. I frown a bit. I'm not saying that it isn't romantic or anything, it kind of is, what with the way the moon light shines on the monkey bars –sarcasm- but I thought he was taking me some place special. He swerves to the right, taking us away from the park to some of the back roads that my parents forbid me to go on on pain of death. What could possibly be back here? I lean my head out the window to get a better look, conveniently forgetting that the window isn't open.

"Ow," I murmur, rubbing my forehead.

"You're such a klutz," Slade says, a slightly amused tone coating his voice.

I try to glare at him, but I soon give up, deciding to direct my attention back towards whatever it is we're driving to. Soon, we are going up an even rockier road, and then all of a sudden we come to a stop. I blink, not realizing where we are at first, until the sound of running water reaches my ear. I look over to see a small stream, which really does sparkle in the moonlight. We're on David's Peak. It's one of the old landmarks of the town. On clear night, you can see the whole town, from the Wal-Mart and Burger King all the way to the gardens and cemetery.

It's beautiful up here.

"Come on," he says, undoing his buckle, then my own. He gets out and walks over my side, opening the door, extending his hand for me like a true gentlemen to help me out. And people say chivalry is dead.

He leads me over to an area surrounded by tall trees and evergreens. He sits down, leaning his back against one of the tree trunks, and I take up a seat next to him. I lean my head against him, sighing, willing myself not to think about anything at all and just rest for a little while. He threads his fingers through my own, lifting my hand, using our index fingers to point up into the sky.

"That ones Orion, The Hunter," he says, tracing out his outline. "And trailing behind him is his faithful dog Sirius. And no, not like Sirius Black," he tells me with a small smirk.

All right, so I have a **little **thing for Harry Potter, but come on, it's cool. And that Ron Weasly...nice. (1) I smile a little. Star watching. How could I have been afraid of a little thing like star watching at one of the best places in town? Maybe alcohol makes me paranoid, too.

"Show me another one?" I ask him, and he grins down at me, giving me a quick kiss.

"All right. Let me see...The Phoenix."

"The mythical bird that rises from it's own ashes," I comment.

He nods, giving a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. "Astronomy a hobby of yours?" he asks.

I shake my head yes, since it's easier than telling him I had to do a report on The Phoenix for my deranged cat who feels it necessary to add school work into my supernatural curriculum.

"Wanna see another?" I nod in excitement, causing him to laugh again. "You're like a little kid," he whispers. "Eridanus, The River. And over there is Hydra, The Water Serpent. And that's..."

"The Big Dipper!" I finish for him proudly.

He raises an eyebrow, then merely shakes his head. "Yeah yeah, the Big Dipper."

I laugh again and lean against him more, feeling very tired. I don't think I'm the kind of person who can hold their drinks. I just wasn't made for drinking, I guess. Not that it's a really big deal or anything. It's not as if my life long dream was to be a world class alcoholic.

He wraps his arm around me and pulls me down, gently pushing me onto my back. Bending down, he kisses me gently, and I practically melt underneath him. My arms go up around his neck, pulling him down closer, trying to get him to deepen the kiss. And for these perfect few seconds, my mind is blank, and I don't remember to feel guilty or afraid or angry or anything but calm. Soon he's on top of me, straddling my waist, and it's not perfect anymore.

Things are very, **very **wrong.

His kiss is deeper, yeah, but it's not gentle, it's hard. Like, abnormally hard. Like biting and scraping, more like devouring than actually kissing. The hands that rested so nicely, so protectively around me, are anything but as his finger curl into my sides, pulling, scratching, hurting. I let out a disgruntled moan and I jerk my head to the side, trying to escape from the harsh demanding lips that only a few minutes ago could make me forget my name.

Pulling back for only a moment, he takes in a deep breath, then looks down at me with the most horrible eyes I've ever seen. What once were a clear blue, beautiful color that reminded me of the sky, are dark and muddled here in the darkness of the night. That's not right, that can't be right. He's not supposed to look at me like that.

Placing my hands on his chest, I make a move to push him away a little. "Slade...I want you to take me home now," I murmur.

"Now?" he questions, and his voice is so sickeningly sweet that I feel like crying. "But we just got here. Besides," he whispers, one hand grabbing both of mine and pinning them above my head, "I haven't shown you all the constellations yet."

No, no, no, **no**. This was not supposed to be him. He was supposed to be my sweet, blue eyed God who was caring and comforting and protective. He wasn't supposed to hurt me. I close my eyes tightly as his lips descend on top of mine again –harshly, biting so hard I feel the flesh of my lip tearing- and for some reason, I see Spinner. I see Mozzy and Craig. I see them smacking their heads, sneering down on me, so disappointed that I let myself get into this situation.

I kick out with my legs, shift from side to side, push my weight against him, and try a few more nifty little jerks of my body which don't do anything but bring us closer together. And I feel something that I really, really hope is a cell phone digging into my hip. I bang my hands against the ground, trying to wriggle them free from his grip.

"Damn it," he growls. Narrowing those awful eyes, he leans up, grabbing me by the mid section. My arms are free for a moment, but they might as well still be pinned, because in only a few seconds, they are twisted behind me. Slade slams my back down, and I cry out a little as my back violently makes contact with my arms. "Quit struggling."

"Let go of me, and I'll stop struggling," I tell him, managing to say these words with much more courage and anger then I feel. Not that there isn't a lot of anger here in this Italian blood –there's loads; notice how I forgot to mention the courage bit- but I think the two most prominent emotions that I'm feeling right now are fear, and betrayal.

God, why didn't I listen to my friends? This just **wasn't **how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be the night that I could just go out and not have to deal with anything. To listen to an awesome band, hang out with a great guy, and just not have to worry, or think, or do anything...at all. Attempted rape was totally not involved in my plans for this evening!

He lifts his hand, back handing me harshly across the face. I bite my already bloodied lip, trying to keep myself from screaming, because I've decided that I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain. I try to free my arms from where they have been pinned behind my back, struggling to get Slade off of me at the same time, but I find I don't have any luck with either.

Soon he cranes his head back down, pressing his lips against mine in an almost tender way, and for some reason I feel like laughing at how ridiculous the action is compared to the way his hands have roughly slid underneath my shirt. His tongue somehow finds it's way into my mouth, still tasting faintly of that chocolate and rum that only a few hours ago I found so comforting. Deciding that I will **not **just lay here without fighting back, I bite down on the invading tongue, feeling ready to gag as warm blood drips into my mouth. Making a sort of growling, he pulls back, looking murderous. I see two small trickles of blood sliding slowly down his tan chin, and I realize –much to my disgust- that one of them is mine.

He hits me again, only this time with a closed fist, and in the gut. "Stupid bitch," he murmurs as he wipes the blood away from his chin. "Just calm down, all right? I won't hurt you."

And I do laugh now, because well, that's just the stupidest and most idiotic thing he could say right now. He's not going to hurt me? And I'm supposed to believe him...why? I'm bleeding, crying, and probably bruised in a few places, and he's promising not to hurt me. How stupid does he think I am?

"Promise," he whispers against my ear before he –three guesses- bites down on my neck. A white hot pain shoots through my neck, and I do let out a little scream, though I curse myself for it. It didn't even hurt this much when freaky dream guy bit me. In fact, I think I'd be willing to trade freaky dream guy for Slade right about now.

And that's just...sad.

I feel warm tears rolling down my cheeks, mingling with the tastes of rum and blood already tainting my lips. I hear a ripping sound, and feel the cool air hit my chest. Looking down, I see a huge rip in the side of my shirt, exposing my shoulder and part of my chest. He grins, an evil sort of sick grin that I haven't even seen –or, technically, **felt**- than dream guy. Leaning down, he begins trailing harsh kisses from my shoulder to my chest.

"Stop!" I yell, hoping that maybe I can shake him from this awful switch in personality. "P-please...don't," I plead softly.

He brings his head up, starring down at me. "Why don't you beg me a little harder," he chuckles harshly, and I've suddenly come to the conclusion that this is who he's been all along.

It hurts to realize this, because I thought that there was really someone for me. Someone who I could be more than friends with, who was gay, who actually wanted me, in more ways than just physically. But, no. No caring, loving, non-violent boyfriend for Marco.

I gulp harshly as I feel his cold fingers going along my abdomen, stopping at the button on my pants. I close my eyes as the sound of my zipper coming undone seems to reverberate through the otherwise empty forest.

"Please stop, please. I won't tell anyone if you just...stop." I say it softly, pleadingly, brokenly, and it doesn't change a thing. He just laughs and kisses me again.

"Of course you won't tell anyone," he says. "If you do," he begins, wrapping one hand around my neck, "I'll have to wring this pretty little neck of yours."

And, bam, it hits me. What the hell am I doing, lying here, just letting this ex-man of my dreams take whatever he wants? I'm a witch! I have magic, I have the Powers That Be on my side, and I'm not just going to let him do this. His hand slips under my boxer and I feel bile rising in my throat, but I keep it down, trying to pull my mind from this haze of fear so that I can think clearly. I need...I have to do **something**, but I'm drawing a blank. No, damn it, not now! Anytime but now! Think Del Rossi, what can I do? There has to be something. I've got to do something.

Calling up on some unknown strength, I manage to wrestle one of my arms out from behind my back. I place it on his chest, letting determination replace my fear. "Yog," (2) I murmur, imagining –praying- that an unbearably hot flame will come from somewhere within me. I imagine the flames, the fire, the heat, burning him until he can't breath. My hands ache as the heat consumes them, but I ignore it. The stench of burning fabric and flesh fills my nose, and I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I somehow manage to break his resolve and he falls off of me, clutching his chest.

"Shit," he breaths out angrily.

I sit up, tilting my head to the side, glancing back only to see him giving me a terrified look. It serves him right, I think, as I scramble to my feet. Growling, he lunges at me, reaching for my ankles. I turn back, lifting my hand, murmuring the curse underneath my breath a few more times, watching half in fear with my own strength and half in fascination as thin streams of fire begin flowing from my hand, cinching Slade on his jacket and neck.

For a moment, I am frozen, unable to move, think, even breath as I take in the sight of him on the ground only a few feet in front of me, his eyes blazing with as much fire as I had flowing through my veins only moments ago.

"Don't you dare even think about running," he hisses, staggering to his feet.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Taking a deep breath, I turn sharply on my heel, and run like hell. My feet pound against the dirty road, and I wince, deciding that these boots probably weren't the most appropriate types of foot wear for this evening. (3) But hey, how was **I **supposed to know I was going to have to run away from a slightly psychotic senior? I continue running, stumbling every now and then. I can hear him screaming something behind me, and I know he's just waiting to get his hands on me. It's that thought that makes me continue. I rise one foot, and somehow end up hitting my other, falling to the ground.

My hands land first, then my face. I wince, a few sharp rocks jutting into my skin. Ignoring the burning in my hands and face, I struggle to my feet. I don't need to look back to know that he's still following me. I pull off my shoes, deciding that it will probably be easier just to run without them. I throw them behind me, not evening having time to mental congratulate myself when they collide with Slades forehead before I begin to run again.

I keep going for I don't know how long. Mentally, I keep chanting an old Romany saying; it's supposed to help give you strength when you believe you can't go on any longer. I don't know if he's still following me, but I don't care, because I'm not stopping until I'm safely outside of my house. Suddenly I see trees passing me, and the scenery somehow dissolves into swing sets and teeter totters.

Time really flies when you're running for you're life.

I ignore the feelings of rocks and glass and God-knows-what-else rubbing harshly against my feet. It's not safe to run bare foot in the park, no matter how romantic it may sound. Taking in deep breaths, I force my burning legs to keep moving. I don't know what might happy to me if I stop, and I don't **want **to know. I just want to get out of here before I find out.

How could Slade turn on me like that? How could I not have seen it? I stumble again, but manage to catch myself before falling completely. I push myself up and continue running, thanking whatever Gods may be looking after me that my house is only five more minutes away.

These are the five longest minutes that have ever gone by in my entire life. Somehow, by a wonderful miracle, I manage to make it to Degrassi street. I feel like stopping to kiss the sign out of sheer joy, but decide that I'll skip the stop tonight and pay my proper respects tomorrow.

I jog down the side walk, feeling tidal waves of relief wash over me when my small home comes into view. I move towards the house, never having been more thankful for anything in my life. I stumble a bit, but somehow manage to not trip over the lawn gnome –which is the creepiest thing on the face of planet- and nearly collapse on the steps. Instead I sag against the tree, taking in panting breaths. Tears are still running down my cheeks, and I lift my hand, rubbing my face, probably doing nothing more but spreading around the dirt, dried tears and blood, but I can't help the feeling that I made some miniscule accomplishment by the action. I look up at the house, praying that my parents aren't awake right now. How could I possibly explain this to them?

_I'll have to wring that pretty little neck of yours._

Right, I couldn't explain this to them. I couldn't explain this to anyone. I'd rather not, anyway. All I would get were a few sympathetic stares and some 'I-told-you-so's' thrown in my face.

I make my way to the door, gripping the small knob with one hand as my other digs into my jacket pocket, producing a small bronze key. I open the door and quietly push it open, mentally doing a happy dance when I see my ma and pop soundlessly –unless you count my pop's snoring- on the couch. Slipping the door closed, I walk towards the stairs, pulling myself up them slowly but silently in order not to awaken my parents. My crying has stopped momentarily, and for that I'm thankful, since I'm sure a random burst of sobs would surely alert the two sleeping Italians that something happened to me.

When I reach my room, I stop for a moment, saying a little prayer in my mind, thanking the Lord I just made it home. I open the door, planning on climbing into the shower, changing, crying my eyes out into the bed sheet, and then just crawling into a hole and dying. Instead, I'm greeted with what I think might be the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

Spinner is sitting in the middle of my bed, a determined expression on his face, his features hard. His eyes are trained on a few cards he is holding tightly in his hands. Mozzy is sitting across from him, and –as hard as this may be to believe- is also holding a few cards, only hers are being held between the fingers on her right paw, while the other is discreetly sliding over to the deck, in what appears to be an attempt to steal a few more.

"Got any 3's?" Spinner questions, never taking his eyes off the cards, but somehow managing to slap her paw away anyways.

Glaring, she gives a small hiss, and Spinner curses underneath his breath, throwing the cards onto the bed. "Damn it!" he yells, angrily. "I can't believe I'm losing Go Fish to a freaking cat. You're cheating, aren't you? Come on, where are you hiding them?" he questions suspiciously. Mozzy swipes her claws at him as he attempts to reach forward to see if she has any spare cards underneath her collar.

What in the hell?

"S-Spinner...?" I whisper softly, my throat kind of scratchy from crying and screaming.

He tenses, his back straightening and an almost guilty look coming over his face. "Uh...hey dude," he says, not even turning to me. "You may be wondering why I, Spinner, am here in your, Marco, bed room, playing Go Fish with your cat. Well, there is a very simple explanation. You see, I was sitting at home, thinking about yo- Paige, and decided that I had been treating yo- Paige like crap, especially this evening when I pushe- yelled at her. So I decided to come over to your house, then I remembered that your parents don't like me, so I climbed up that lattice thing and, since you weren't here, decided to wait for you until you got back from your date. See, simple!" Pausing momentarily, he speaks, beginning to turn towards me. "Hey, did you ever thing of putting a latter near your window so I won't kill myself next time I have to break into your house...oh my God...what the hell happened?"

I open my mouth to say something, but find nothing but a muffled cry escaping my lips as I fall down to my knees. Within moments he's rushed over to my side, bending down and placing his arms around my midsection, bringing my somewhat limp body closer to his. My head falls against his chest as he does so, and I don't even have the strength to move away.

"Marco?" he says, and I know by the way he's slightly shaking me and holding me at the same time that he's too concerned to even curse the worried tone of his voice. "Marco? Hey, what happened? Are you all right? Marco, say something!"

"Spin," I manage, looking up at him with eyes that are slightly clouded by dark lashes that are heavy with tears. "Not so loud, please? My parents might hear, and I don't want them to..."

He's shaking his head now, trying to vehemently deny something. And by the look of fury and fear in his eyes, I can safely guess what it is he's trying to convince himself didn't happen. He's not really as stupid as people think he is. I mean, yes, sometimes Spinner can be a complete idiot, but he's not as oblivious as some other people I know.

"Marco," he tells me, voice barely above a whisper, and I can't tell if the reason he's speaking so low is because he's angry or scared. "Just tell me what happened. Did...did Slade...did he..."

I don't say anything. I can't say anything. Can't tell him the truth, I know that. Even if I didn't believe Slade's threat –which I completely and one hundred percent so totally did- I couldn't say anything. I used my powers on him. I. Used. My. Powers. Do you know what would happen to me if the word got around that I was some kind of freak? A gay freak, no less. A gay freak crying attempted rape from one of the most privileged kids in town. I doubt any of that would work in my favor. In fact, I know it wouldn't.

Sitting here, in my best friends arms, I realize just how hopeless everything just got in around the past twenty minutes. A guy, the guy I thought might actually be the one person for me, turned out to be nothing I thought he was and everything Spinner said he was, he's hurt me and threatened me, and who knows how many other kids, and there isn't a single thing I can do about it, because there is the slightest chance that he may have figured out my secret. My true secret.

Forgive me if I sound cynical, but I don't exactly have a lot of faith in the fellow members of man kind at the moment. If there is even a hint that I might be a witch or a mutant of some kind, then they'll probably ship me off to the states and let the government do weird experiments on me, or something.

I hear him mumbling something under his breath, and I look up at him, only to find a pair of glazed eyes starring down at me. "I swear, I'll kill him," he says through clenched teeth.

I prepare to ask him something, but can't. The only thing I can do is lean into him, finding some type of comfort in the warmth of his body. He wraps his arms around me and helps me to my feet, supporting my weight since it seems my legs have decided to pack it in for the night. He begins half walking me, half carrying me into the bathroom, with Mozzy following closely behind us.

_Rom Baro? What happened? Why are you're clothes...why were you crying...? What did...oh, no. _

He leans me against the counter, and all I can do is grip the sides while he gets out a wash cloth and dampens it. He brings it to my face, and my first instinct is to flinch away from him, but I mentally scold myself and merely hold still. There's no reason to be afraid of Spinner. He cares about me to much; I know he would never hurt me. The cool material dabs my face and I sigh, giving in to the feeling, screaming for joy on the inside as I feel some of mixtures of dirt and blood being wiped from my chin. Moving up to my eyes, his fingers brush –accidentally, I think- against my cheek, and it feels so soft and warm that I forget to remember to be afraid that someone is touching me...if that makes any sense.

"I'll kill him," he repeats as he begins taking off my jacket, his eyes blazing as he notices the rips in my shirt. "I will tear him limb from limb for ever laying his filthy hands on you. I swear it, Marco, I'll make him pay. For ever touching you, for trying to..."

I cut him off, shaking my head slightly. "N-no Spin, he didn't...Slade didn't touch me..." I say, feeling my stomach turn as I spit out the words.

He slams his fist against the counter. "Don't cover for that bastard, Marco. I can practically smell his cheap cologne all over you."

"He never..."

"Never what? What can you possibly say in defense of this?" he asks, but his voice isn't all that angry, not with the pleading note it has in it. "Are you going to tell me all he wanted was your dancing shoes? I'm not stupid enough to fall for that."

I remain silent, biting my lip as we stand in a tension filled silence. He's right; I **can't **tell him that Slade just wanted my dancing shoes.

"I...fell," I say lamely. "He got called home early and I decided to...to walk home...and there were these cats, see, and they like, came out of nowhere, and then started attacking me, so I had to run home, and there was this little old lady that kept asking for shoe donations, and see I just had to give some to her, and by the time I got home, well..."

His fist is clenched, teeth gritted as he speaks his next words carefully. "So you got that bruise from a little old lady?"

"N-no," I stutter, trying desperately to look for something, anything to say to him. "It was the cats..."

Letting out a deep breath, he turns to the medicine cabinet, opening it up and pulling out some Band Aids, gauze, and some anti something or other before turning back to me. "You're a horrible liar," he mutters dryly.

I decide to say something, but am cut short as he slings my arms around his neck. I, of course, hang onto him for dear life as he leads me back to the bed room. He sets me on the end of the bed and kneels in front of me, rolling down my socks and giving my feet a look cross between pity and disgust. He gets the wash cloth –guess I didn't see him get that- and begins washing off the bottoms of my feat. There are a few scraps on them, but nothing to bad, only that they sting like crap. He then stands up, looking down at me with a soft but stern gaze that I can only guess he learned from his mother.

"I'm going to need you to take your shirt off."

I immediately feel like screaming, but instead I just blink at him. I sit there, stunned for several moments, but he makes no move to take it off of me, only waist patiently. After a little while he sighs, giving me a kind of look that makes me want to slap myself for not doing what he asked.

"Marco, just take it off..."

"Don't want to," I mumble, trying to avoid his eyes.

He sighs. "I know, after what you went through-"

"With the evil hell cats."

"-I wouldn't want to be stripping down in front of me, either, but I need to see if you have any bruises or anything."

I shake my head again, scooting back onto the bed. "I don't want you to see," I say softly, so softly I think that he doesn't hear me.

He does.

"Why?" he asks softly.

I bite my lip a little, then somehow allow the answer to slip. "I don't want you to see me so weak and so fragile and so damn broken, okay? I just...I want you to go home, Spin," I lie.

He shakes his head, obviously not accepting the answer. "Don't you ever say that, **ever**. You're not broken, Marco. No one, not some jerks in the park or some sick freak like Slade will ever break you. So just, take off your shirt, please?"

After a few moments of shaking, I finally lift my arms, slowly removing my shirt, throwing the tattered piece of fabric down to the floor. His eyes narrow and I look down to see red marks –that are sure to be all sorts of nifty colors tomorrow- littering my skin. He takes the wash cloth and dabs the cool water against my stomach, cleaning up some of the dirt. He moves up, his eyes blazing even more when he reaches the teeth marks that have been left on my shoulder, and I swear I think he was serious when he told me he would kill Slade.

"Sit tight, 'kay?" he tells me as he stands up and heads over to my dresser.

I don't know why he told me that, it's not like I'm going to run away from him or anything. Not him, not Spinner. Not after everything we've been through. I know he won't hurt me. I mean, I may not be the best judge of character at the moment, but I know enough not to be afraid of Spinner.

He walks back over to me, holding a over-sized gray shirt and some black sweat pants. I stand shakily, and am more than thankful when he begins helping me put the shirt on. I reach for the pants, stopping only when he grabs my hands and holds them up to his face, inspecting them for anything out of the ordinary. He hisses under his breath, losing me for a moment, until I realize that there must be some pretty interesting burn marks on my palms.

"What...?"

I say nothing, only grab the pants and stare at the ground, waiting for a few moments until he finally turns around so I can change. I fall back onto the bed, sitting there for a few moments, unsure of what I can do or say. Mozzy jumps up next to me and nuzzles her face against me. I smile softly down at her, running my hands through her fur, my skin feeling oddly cool at the touch.

Spinner kneels next to me again, pulling out some spray. I give it a distasteful look as he takes one of my hands into his own. I jerk away for a second, only to have him gently pull it back.

"It's all right, dude. It's only gonna sting a bit," he assures me soothingly.

Soothing, Spinner, yeah. When he wants to be, he can be really sweet. Almost, disturbingly sweet. He sprays the evil substance on to my hand and I squeeze my eyes shut. Cool breath flitters over my skin and I look down, only to see him cautiously blowing on my wounds. I just look for a moment, noticing how my hand seems so dark next to his pale skin, and so ridiculously small. I squirm a little, pulling at my hands.

He frowns up at me. "Stop it. I'm trying to make it feel better."

"I know," I say, giggling a bit. He raises a quizzical eyebrow. "It tickles," I explain.

Blinking, he merely shakes his head and repeats the process with the other hand.

"So," he begins after he's done. "Did the homicidal hell kittens breath fire, too, cause those are some pretty nasty burns dude."

I stare at him a few moments before lowering my gaze to the ground. He stands up and begins pacing in front of my bed, murmuring something under his breath every now and then. I merely keep my eyes glued on the carpet.

"Damn it, Marco, I can't just stay here while I know that creep is running out there somewhere."

"But Spinner, he's not a creep. He didn't do anything. I told you."

"You have to tell the police. Someone, I don't know. Just make sure that guy goes behind bars, suffers, gets what he deserves for..."

"Doing absolutely nothing to me. Like I said, evil cats, crazy women, me tripping over my own feet..." Which isn't a complete lie. "Slade had nothing to do with it."

He stops pacing and turns towards me, his eyes flickering with anger as he stomps closer to me. "Don't lie, Marco. Don't you dare even try to defend him after what he did to you! You can't just there and tell me that he didn't when I **know **that he must have...wait, Marco, please don't, don't cry, dude, please," he trails off with a sigh.

I squeeze my eye shut and curl over onto my side, willing him to disappear, willing myself to disappear. I don't want to lie to him. I hate lying to him. I can't tell him the truth. I don't want to. I **can't**.

Bringing my knees up, I wrap my arms around my legs and just lay here, silent sobs wracking my frame. "Just...go away Spinner. Leave me alone." I sound so harsh, so apathetic and so dead that I start cringe even more.

"I'm not going to go. Not until you tell me what that sick fu-"

"Just stay the hell away from me!"

I regret it. I don't want him to go. I want him to stay here with me, but I know he won't. I hear footsteps on the carpet and the sound of the door opening and closing. He left me, and I can't blame him. I practically threw him out myself.

Two, strong, warm arms wrap around my waist. I open my eyes, only to see light blue fabric. I look up, only to see Spinner staring down at me, his face looking completely calm. I open my mouth to try and say something, but he silences me by pulling me closer. It takes a moment for my mind to register what he's doing, but as soon as it does, I nuzzle into him. He's so warm, and comforting, and I hate to admit that I love the way he's holding me. His hands glide through my hair and he wraps his other arm around me even tighter, holding me closer.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly. I clutch the fabric of his shirt between my fingers, adjusting my head until I find a more comfortable position against his chest. He stops petting me –my hair...on my head...you know what I mean- momentarily as he begins to speak. "Hey dude, don't get to used to this all right? Don't think that every time you get upset about something I'm gonna come over here and start spooning you or anything, cause I'm not. And don't get any wrong ideas about this either."

I grin a little into his chest, snuggling closer. "It's okay Spin, I know you love me," I murmur through the tears.

He continues holding me while I cry, rubbing my back soothingly every now and then. I don't know if it's because he's so warm, or comfortable –and God this man **is **comfortable- or I'm just completely exhausted, I quickly drift off to sleep in his arms, only two thoughts on my mind. One, how is it possible for him to remain so warm? And two, why in the hell was he playing Go Fish with my cat in the first place?

---

(1) About the Harry Potter reference. Sorry, I can't help it. It's one of my latest fandoms, and I'm madly in love with Ron. He's so cute!

(2) The Romany word for fire.

(3) Have **you **ever tried to run down a rocky dirt road in huge, clunky combat boots? Especially if you're accident prone? Can you say, stitches?

Um, that was ridiculously long. –cough- Review, please?

Spinner: -throwing random lethal weapons out of his closet- Where the heck is this Slade person?

Marco: -dodging a machete- Why, what are you going to do him?

Spinner: -starring happily at his ax- Oh...err...nothing!


	12. Chapter Twelve: Just For

Disclaimer: The day I own Degrassi is the day Marco shows up at my doorstep with hand cuffs. Oh, the song is definitely not mine either. It's 'Just For' by Nickleback, because Nickleback rules.

Author's Notes: Whoo-hoo, the next chapter! Wow, you all gave such nice reviews for the last chapter. It makes me feel loved.

Fucted Up Kid: I thought you were, but I couldn't remember. Wow, thank you for the nice review! Yeah, I liked the ending. Just had to have the fluff.

Squrlie Jack: Squrlie wrath! Sorry, I just happen to say that at random at school a lot, and that's what your name reminded me of. –cough- Thanks for the review!

almost-never: I updated, that I did! And look, I'm doing it again! Aren't I ? Yes, poor Marco, yes, bad Slade. I'm glad you liked Marco's little lie...thing. Thank you for reviewing.

Vixen-Drago16: I love you too! Yeah, new Degrassi episodes, I was bouncing up and down happily, so my family thinks I'm insane too! Ah yes, and your comment on Slade; while he **could **be freaky dream guy, I never really said he was. It was just made clear that he was a heartless over-sexed teenager. He is evil, though, I just haven't said that he's **the **evil guy. Thanks for the review!

PinkHair08: Aw, well thank you very much! I feel appreciated now. Thank you for reviewing!

mydracomalfoy: -laughs- Sorry, your sexy beast comment reminded me of a discussion the other day in which I declared Dumbledore a sexy beast...don't ask. Thank you for the review! Oh, and Spinner and Marco get a little...closer in this chapter too. –evil laughter-

Enigmus: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed the new chapters. I hope you like this one too, though, I must say, it's kind of...odd...I don't like it.

KinseySix: Don't worry, Slade **will **get his. All right, about the Spinner/Marco sex thing –not that you mentioned it, of course- it was going to be in chapter 14, because that's when the story was going to be over, but I just thought of a completely new ending, which will give the story three-six more chapters than originally thought. But don't worry, I'll find **some **way to tide you over 'til then. –winks-

Ominee: Hello, and thank you for reading and reviewing this story! I'm glad you like it!

Bridget N: Spinner **is **sweet. A bit oblivious, kinda idiotic sometimes, but sweet. That's why Marco needs him!

Crimson Hurricane: Oh, oh, all caps! That really must mean I'm loved! Thanks for the review!

anjel919: **Loved **the whole priceless thing, it was totally great. Yeah, Spinner does totally love Marco. It's so sweet! I'm glad you liked the way I described everything. Thank you for reviewing!

megtyped: Oh yeah, totally! lol, love you too! Thanks for reviewing!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: I couldn't resist putting in a little bit of HP. My friend is always saying, "Serious like Siruis Black, yo!" –coughs nervously- Right. Running in boots is darn near impossible. I was late for the bus the other day, and I was wearing mine, so I had to run...no good will ever come out of running in boots. Thanks for reviewing!

---

**Chapter Twelve: Just For**

_"It looks like it hurt," the deep, always mocking, semi-pissed voice whispers into my ear as soft fingertips brush against the bite mark on my neck._

_Taking in a deep breath, I tense, ready to flinch away, before He does the unthinkable and stops touching me.__ I'm –well, we're- in the desert again. The deep, almost unearthly red of the sands is clearly visible beneath the brightly glowing full moon. I wonder why it's always night here in this desert. Why there is never a bright sun, wispy clouds, a sea blue sky here. Why there are no trees, no animals, no people, basically nothing but, the sky, the sand, and Him. _

_"Because you don't need anything else," He says, as if it can logically explain everything. _

_I don't even ask how it is He can read my thoughts, because at the moment, I could care less. If He can find His way into my dreams again, then it really shouldn't surprise me that He can hear my thoughts, too. _

_I plop down, folding my legs underneath me as I do so. I lightly drag my fingers across the sand, tracing random patterns, reveling in the warmth I feel from the sand against my skin. I wait for Him to do something, say something, kiss me or kill me, but nothing happens. _

_"Drawing smiley faces?" He finally asks after a few minutes of uneasy silence –on my part at least- pass. _

_I frown down at the pattern, sighing as I kick the drawing with my bare foot. "If you don't like **my **art work, go crack into Mia Angelou's dreams," I mumble. _

_He laughs a little and I hear bare feet against the sand. My body tenses, because I just **know **He's going to come over here, and I really don't want Him to do that. I never want Him to do that. Unless I'm having those odd little lapses of sanity, which thankfully only happen every now and then._

_"It looks like it hurt," He says again, settling behind me, close enough so that I can feel his breath on my neck, but not actually touching me. I'm kind of grateful for that. "Did it?" He asks._

_I nod, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Of course it hurt," I tell Him, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, because I don't really want to see Him when He gets upset. "It hurt like hell. Worse than yours, which, might I add, is really saying something."_

_"I had to mark you," He says, conversationally. "So you wouldn't forget who you belonged to, since you have a tendency to do that."_

_My eyes narrow and I bite my lip, desperately wanting to say something and be strong, but desperately wanting to keep my throat intact. "Oh really? Like when?" I say softly, cursing myself as I realize that I've just admitted I belong to Him in the first place. _

_"Does the name Dylan ring a bell?" He asks rather coldly. "You just so confidently forgot I existed when he came into the picture. What did it take? A nice smile, blue eyes, blond hair, and a cute little laugh? You were all his. You were mine first. I had you long before he did. I-"_

_"You nothing!__ You don't own me, and neither did he! Besides...I didn't even know you were **real **then. I thought you were like...I don't know...a figment of my warped, lonely little imagination."_

_My words started out strong, filled with anger and defiance, but ended in nothing more than a whisper as I realize how pitiful that statement was. Pitiful, because it's true. I thought I really had made someone up, because I didn't think anyone else cared. Sad because, as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I do want someone to belong to. Someone who will just hold me and take care of me and love me. Someone who..._

_"I'm sorry," He whispers, and I realize that his arms have suddenly made it around my waist. "I'm sorry that...it hurt." He places a kiss to my ear lobe, and then..._

My eyelids begin to rise slowly, allowing the harsh golden sun light that fills my room to burn my pupils ever so slightly. Making a sort of grunting noise under my breath, I turn on my side and bury my head into the pillow, inhaling an odd scent that is a mix between cinnamon, bacon, and burning leaves.

Why does my bed smell like Spinner? And yes, that's how Spinner smells. Don't ask me how he manages to smell like that every single day, but he does, and it scares me. Not that he smalls **bad **or anything, it's just kind of creepy. But that's just a little above and left of the actual point. Why does my bed smell like Spinner? I don't remember sleeping with him any time. Well, I mean, not sleeping with him sleeping with him, just being in bed with him. I mean, him coming...to my house, and sleeping on the bed, while I sleep on the floor, or somewhere else that's very far away.

"Hey, no, stop that! Bad kitty, bad! Go chew on a milk bone or something, that's Marco's food. Marc-o. Are you Marco? No, I don't think so. I suggest you just take your kitteny-self right over there and away from those Cocoa Puffs, missy! Hey...why are you looking at me like that? Don't you dare put your paws on that-"

Thump.

"Damn you hell cat. Damn you to the most fiery depths of some...um...really fiery place!"

Hiss.

Scratch.

"Ow! God, quit doing that!"

I blink a few times in confusion, wondering what could possibly be going on behind me. Pushing myself up, I tilt my head back, my eyes widening a little as I take in the details of the scene in front of me. Spinner is holding a tray with a small bowl of cereal, some orange juice, and a banana. There is a rather angry expression on his face, as well as a small scratch –that looks remarkably like one of Mozzy's scratch marks- underneath his right eye.

After a few moments, our eyes lock, and a smile begins tugging at his lips. I give him a quizzical look as he begins to step forward. Mozzy jumps up on the bed beside me, nuzzling into my side as I begin to sit up.

"Morning, Marco," he says brightly, glaring at the black kitten at my side. "Sleep well?"

"Uh...yeah," I answer a bit groggily. I glance down at the tray he holds, then raise an eyebrow.

With another smile, he begins to respond to my unasked question. "Breakfast is served."

He grabs a pillow and lays it across my lap, placing the tray on top of it. Mozzy begins sneaking closer, but Spinner only flicks her nose, resulting in his pinky being bitten. I merely stare blankly at the tray on my lap. Spin...made me breakfast? In bed? That's so...sweet. I allow a soft smile to come onto my features and I pick up the spoon, slowly beginning to pick at the cereal.

A few moments later, Mozzy is back at my side. I look over at her, and she merely smiles –I swear she's smiling, no really- before curling up to me. I see Spinner sitting on the floor, resting his head against the side of the bed, sighing under his breath every now and then. And for some reason, in this moment, with me, my hell cat, and Spinner, everything seems right.

_How about sharing some of that chocolaty goodness, Rom Baro? _Mozzy questions.

I shake my head, opening my mouth to prepare to answer before realizing that with Spinner here, answering my cat out loud isn't the smartest idea. _Since when did you start saying 'chocolaty goodness'? _I ask, somewhat amused, somewhat freaked by her usage of those two words. _Besides, it's mine. Spinner made it for me. If you want some, go get your own._

_Fine, _she mumbles, adjusting her position against me. _Let me starve, see if **I **care. I'm sure your little boyfriend doesn't._

Nearly choking on my Cocoa Puffs, I cough, hitting my chest. _W-what? Boyfriend? Spinner is just my-_

_Friend?__ Ha! You're so oblivious, Rom Baro, it's almost funny. Mostly sad, though. Did you even see how he was last night? I thought steam was going to come out of his ears. Not only was he in a rage over what slut boy did to you, he was jealous that aforementioned slut boy tried to do it to you first. _

_...slut boy?_Where does she get this stuff, I mean really?

_And he held you all night. He let you cry on his shoulder and he **held **you. He laid there, arms around you, stroking your hair and back, whispering words of comfort into your ear even after you'd gone asleep. He was just kind of looking at you longingly, too. I swear, if I wasn't here, he would have just fuc-_

"Mozzy!" I yell, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. I can't believe she just said that. Well, all right, I can. It is a rather Mozzy-like thing to say, but still. He wouldn't want to...you know...with me. Sometimes, I don't know how she comes up with such ridiculous things.

He held me?

"Marco?" Spinner asks, his head popping up from the side of the bed. "Is that damned cat of yours trying to steal your breakfast again?"

I give him a weak smile as I shake my head. "No, no. She just kind of scared me, that's all." He gives me an odd look, then glances at the cat on my side, who matches his glare with one of her own. "Thanks," I say, drawing his attention away from her, since I truly do fear for his life should he make enemies with my cat. "For breakfast, I mean. You didn't have to."

"It was no problem," he says. "I just thought that you wouldn't really feel like dealing with anything this morning, even breakfast."

He gives me this smile that is so full of heart that I can't help but mirror it exactly. He really is sweet. I mean, he's one of the most caring people I know. There's not many people, not many friends who would stick with you like he does. There aren't many people who would put up with so much, who would go through everything you have to go through, like he does. I'm lucky for that.

He held me?

Yes, I know she told me this a while ago, but I still can't get over it. I just can't picture it. Picture **him**. Holding me like that. I mean, maybe if it were Paige, or Kendra, then I could imagine it. But just not...me. I can't see him laying there –in my bed no less- with his arms around me, holding me and caring for me, looking at me with a heart breaking amount of love and concern in his dark eyes. But of course, silly me, that's not how it was, I remind myself. He would never look at me like that, I should know that by now. He was giving me a look caught between pity and anger. Pity for how weak he must think I am, and anger for Slade for hurting me.

I know that. I do, I know it. He doesn't care for me, not like that.

"I need a shower," I murmur, deciding to pull my mind from the more confusing and depressing thoughts that sometimes come when my mind is on the subject of Spinner.

He looks up at me, blinking once or twice, as if he too was deep in thought about something. He shakes his head, a few blond tendrils falling in front of his eyes. (1) Then he nods his head, giving a weak smile. "Yeah," he says. He leans forward and grasps the tray with his hands, not even making eye contact as he stands up.

I push the comforter off of me and stand up, heading over to my closet to grab some clothes. I notice that he is standing perfectly still in the door way. Staring at him, I give him a slightly quizzical look. He turns his head, opening the door, stepping out half-way before answering my silent question.

"I'll be here when you get back."

And I'm so utterly grateful for those few words that it's almost ridiculous. An appreciative smile slips on my face as I grab some random clothing items. I wasn't sure if he was staying, or if he was just going to drop the half-eaten bowl of Cocoa Puffs off in the sink and go home, be rid of me and my problems for a day or two. Unlike what I told him last night, I really do want him to stay, I kind of **need **him to stay. I don't know if I can deal with all of this by myself, not like I have been. But, with those seven words, he told me that he's not going to let me go through this alone.

I step into the bathroom, flipping on the light before I head towards the medicine cabinet. My head still hurts. Not too bad, just a dull aching in the sides of my temple that is going to slowly drive me insane if I don't get some Tylenol soon. The Aruba Smash is evil. Random parts of my body still hurt, mostly my stomach and my hands, which will probably be aching for a while, since I haven't really used that much so called 'fire power' in a while. I can also see a few bruises forming on my face. After downing some of those trusty little pills, I lay my clothes out and drop the dirtied ones into the hamper before climbing into the shower.

As I reach for a bottle of body wash, I grab one of those sponge dealy whacker things –it's too early in the morning to be completely articulate- and squeeze some of the pinkish liquid onto it. I begin scrubbing my arm, then move up to my shoulder, where I begin to wash gently...at first.

_Dark, cold, light breeze, strong hands on my chest, teeth sinking into my flesh like it's nothing..._

I shiver a little, then reach forward to turn up the water temperature a bit. I begin scrubbing my shoulder a bit harder, trying to wash Slade off of me. Where he touched me, where he marked me, where he tried to...

_Unyielding lips attacking my struggling body, pulling at the clothes, tattered fabric wet with tears..._

Clutching the sponge thingy in an even tighter grip, I scrub harder, pushing and pulling against my skin in hopes of erasing any trace of his presence. There is a slight burning, but I ignore it, continuing only in this little act of cleansing myself.

_Blood in my mouth, in his mouth, somehow flowing off of him like it was nothing, but staining me...staining me..._

I turn the water up even more, almost scolding, because what can I possibly manage to get rid of with such a lukewarm temperature? I'm scrubbing harder, desperately trying to wash him off of me. Suddenly I feel so incredibly dirty that I can't stand it. I'm scrubbing harder, not just my shoulder, but my neck, my chest, and my legs, until my usually tanned skin is more of a dark rosy color, and it's still not enough. I let him touch me. I let him put his hands and his blood and his mark on me and now I don't know if I can get it off.

Reaching down, I grab the little pumas bar –you know, those things that have the prickly things on them?- hoping that maybe this will work better. Even though I can't see it now, I know it must be there. All the dirt, the grime, **everything**, that is sticking to my skin because of what happened last night.

Should have fought harder, I think to myself as I drag the pumas bar across the bite mark that lies just between my neck and shoulder. That must be why I feel so dirty, because I let it happen. Because I was practically offering myself to him, in the beginning anyway. That must have been it. Because I was so forward in the beginning, he didn't care that I fought. It didn't matter that I said no. In some ways, I guess, I'd already told him yes.

Maybe I should tell Spinner that. I don't want him to get hurt. And, whether he wants to admit it, Slade could hurt him. What if Spinner tries to go to the police or someone? Then Slade would not only come after him, but he'd come after me, and then everyone would know. About my secret, about how damn dirty I am.

Spinner would hate me if he knew. If he knew what really happened. If he knew that I had dressed and acted like a slut, gotten drunk, practically dared Slade to...he would hate me then. He wouldn't ever want to be near me again, to talk to me, even to touch me. Not like last night. Not like when I came here, even more dirty than I am now, and he touched me so gently when he was dressing my wounds, like I was made of glass.

I keep scrubbing as I replay the foggy memories of what Spinner did for me last night. The way his hands were so warm, how soft they were when they accidentally brushed against me. How different they were from Slade's. How different he **is **from Slade. When Slade was touching me, it hurt, and it stained, but with Spinner, it was nice, and comforting.

I let the pumas slip from my hand after I feel blood mixing with the scolding water. Quickly, I turn off the shower water, as if suddenly realizing just how hot I let it get. Tears are flowing freely now as I slip down the shower wall, hugging my knees to my chest.

Spinner's touch was cleansing. It was so caring, so feather light and warm and filled with good intentions, it somehow purified where ever Slade left his mark.

I don't need a shower.

I need therapy.

For around five to ten minutes I just sit here, my skin red and my shoulder bleeding from where I got a bit too rough with that pumas, crying so hard my entire body is wracked with the sobs. Gods, how could I think that? How could I **ever **think that? It's not like I **asked **Slade to try and rape me. I didn't. I wasn't enticing him or giving him an invitation to get into my pants. It wasn't my fault. I can't sit here and blame myself. I can't let myself think that I've done this to myself. I can't let him break me down.

Can I?

Deciding that I'm done with my mini-mental breakdown, I wipe my eyes, stand up, and climb out of the shower. I wince mentally as I get a look of myself in the shower. There are small welts of crimson, which don't even clash that much with the rosy tinge to my skin, created by the obsessive scrubbing and ridiculously hot water. My eyes are red from crying, with small trails of tears still visible down my face.

Well...no more breakdowns in the shower, that's for sure.

I try to get dressed, then realize that when your skin feels like frying bacon, trying to put on Abercrombie and Fitch is a very, **very **bad idea. Instead, I settle for wrapping a towel around my waist. For a few minutes I just stay in here, staring at the mirror, hoping that maybe my skin will turn back to normal. After a little while, it does actually get better, even though I still think I look more like a sun burned albino then a sun loving Italian kid. Deciding that although Spinner won't be happy –not with my skin color, my shoulder, or the fact that I only have a towel around me for clothing- I'm going to have to face the music anyway, I walk back into my room.

Spinner is laying on the floor, one of my black pens curled in his hands, a white sheet of paper laying underneath him. Cautiously, I near him, only to see that he is fast asleep. I guess staying up all night would have that effect on you. As I bend down next to him, I see that he's been writing something. It's either a poem, or a song. And as sweet as Spin can sometimes be, I doubt he's much of a poetry guy. Slowly, so I don't disturb him, I begin sliding the piece of paper out from underneath his arm. I know I probably shouldn't be reading this, that it's most likely private, but I can't help it if I'm curious.

_'I want_ _to take his eyes out_

_Just for looking at you_

_Yes I do_

_And I want to take his hands of-_

"Marco..." I hear someone say in a rather upset voice. I turn my head, feigning the most innocent look imaginable as I attempt to hide the sheet of paper behind my back. His eyes narrow, and for some reason, I don't think he's buying my 'innocent' act. "Give that back."

I am sitting up, and Spinner is sitting right across from me, a deadly look of calm on his face that I've ever seen, and it scares me more than the flying death monkeys themselves. (2)

"Give what back?" I ask timidly, beginning to scoot back a little.

"Marco, come on dude, give it back," he says. "I don't want you to read it."

"Why?" I question him. "I'm not going to hurt it, I just want to-eep!"

I jump to the side, dodging as Spinner lunges forward, reaching out to grab the...err...whatever it is. I scramble towards my bed, trying to stifle my laughter as the top of his curly head makes contact with the of the footboard. Unfortunately, while I'm giggling –hey, I said I was **trying**- Spinner takes the opportunity to rip the page from my hand.

"Hey!" I yell, trying to grab it back, failing as he pulls his hand back. "I wasn't finished reading that," I pout.

He sighs a little as he folds the page back up, stuffing it into his pocket. "That's the point, smart one. I don't **want **you to read it. It's not finished yet."

"Fine," I murmur, settling my back against the bed. "Keep your secrets."

For a moment, I just sit here, allowing my eyes to close and trying to get my body to relax. When I open my eyes again, I see Spinner's gaze seemingly glued to something. And that **something**, I realize, happens to be my chest. Before I can even start blushing, I slap myself mentally, reminding my little mind that he must be staring at how red my skin is. Why else would he be staring so intently?

He continues staring, absently licking his lips and taking in a deep breath. This must mean he's either angry or concerned. "Guess I didn't realize how hot the water was," I tell him, hoping he'll buy it.

His body does a little jerking thing, and he blinks, suddenly blushing as dark as my own skin. I raise an eyebrow at this, tilting my head to the side. I guess he's embarrassed he got caught staring, or something. Don't ask me, though. I have no idea what goes on in that mind of his.

"Um...yeah," he mutters, shaking his head. Suddenly, a little grin comes onto his face.

And I don't like it.

He looks up, our eyes meeting, and I see the mirth dancing behind his eyes.

There are a few things Spinner does when he gets like this. It's either A) something really stupid, B) something really funny –because it's usually really stupid- or C) something that is equally stupid, funny, with a dash of cruelty.

It's a letter C moment, and I decide to take this opportunity to attempt to run.

"No, Spinner, don't! Come on man, I'm **sorry**!"

"You know you like it!"

"I most certainly do not! Don't do it man, come on, I'm begging you!"

"Gotcha!"

Spinner gives me the most evil, sadistic smile I have ever seen as I stare up at him, giving him a pleading look with my eyes. His hands rest against the bottom of my bare abdomen, holding me in place, even as I try to move away.

He bends his head down, that same grin playing on his lips. "Is little Marco...ticklish?"

"No!" I scream, but alas, it does no good. His fingers are moving before I can even choke out my little protest. "P-please stop...it...it...tickles!" I gasp out, giggling insanely as try to jerk out of his grip.

He laughs at my misfortune –the jerk- and continues to torture me. I can see it in his eyes, there shall be no mercy for me today. Sometimes, I swear Spin is evil incarnate.

Spinner and I have this thing, a routine you might call it. See, sometimes, not a lot or anything, but sometimes, I do thins that make Spin less than happy. Accidentally turning his favorite Marilyn Manson shirt pink –**I **don't even know how I did that one-, messing up his hair dye that one time for Halloween –but he did look kind of cute with purple hair- or some other silly thing like, I don't know, setting his one-of-a-kind Darth Vadar action figure on fire –no comment-, and he'll sort of, I don't know how you'd put it, 'punish me' –wow that sounds incredibly wrong- by tickling me. Now, some people might think, oh gee, tickling him, big whoop. Well, it is. I mean, I'm like, ridiculously ticklish. It's not even funny. And I swear, Spin is like a freaking machine, or something. He can just sit there, showing no signs of exhaustion for hours at a time.

You try being abused mercilessly for hours and see how much you like it.

It's not very fun, believe it or not. It's kind of scary, actually. That's why I tend to try my hardest **not **to make Spinner angry. Mentally, I curse myself vehemently. They do say that curiosity killed the cat.

_I resent that statement, _Mozzy snorts from her position on the bed, continuing to watch Spinner attack me. _Would you like me to gauge out anything for you, particularly his eyeballs?_

I give her a stunned look, or I would, if I weren't too busy rolling around on the ground, screaming and giggling at the top of my lungs. When did my cat become so...sadistic?

As I twist and turn –which in retrospect is a bad idea sense he begins attacking my ribs anyway- I somehow allow fits of laughter to escape me. All right, so even though the tickling does kind of suck, it's a complete load off my mind just to be able to joke around with him like this. More of those redeeming touches are sent my way as his hands trail up my back, continuing to tickle me to the point of no return, and I can still feel those awful marks Slade made being erased by it.

A light knock on the door causes me to turn my head. I stare at it for a few moments, wondering if I really heard anything as I continue to absently reach for Spinner's quickly moving hands. Just as I am about to turn back to him, one of the most terrifying things I've ever seen greets me. The door swings open, revealing both my ma and pop standing in the entry way, mouths hanging open, a promise of death flashing in my pop's eyes.

Why do people always walk in on me when I'm the most compromising position imaginable?

"M-Marco...?!" my mother screams, finally alerting the oblivious Spinner to the presence of my less-than-happy-parents.

He stills completely, his hands still lightly resting on my stomach –right near the towel, as luck would have it- as his head turns to face them. Pink begins to color his cheeks as his mouth opens, then closes again.

"Um...hi Mrs. Del Rossi, Mr. Del Rossi. Lovely morning, isn't it?"

"What are you doing to my son?!"

"I'm not hurting him," Spinner tells my pop quickly. "I was only playing with him. Oh wait, that didn't come out right..."

I push him off of me, and he stumbles slightly to his feet. Before my pop can advance on him, I jump up as well, standing in front of my friend as a sort of shield. Unconsciously, my hands go behind me, lightly resting on his sides as I press my back against his chest. His right hand comes up to me, giving a reassuring kind of squeeze before falling back down.

Gulping a bit, I begin to speak. "Ma," I say, looking over at her. "Pop," I murmur as I give him a pleading smile. "It wasn't what it looked like. We were just, you know, horsing around."

Please buy it, please buy it, please buy it...

"Oh," my ma says apprehensively, placing a hand on my pop's shoulder. "Come along, dear, I think they really were just..."

"My God, Marco, what happened to you? Where did you get all those bruises? How did you get a sunburn during this time of month?" my ma questions me worriedly.

I can feel Spinner tensing, and take a breath, trying to think up something at least slightly believable. "No, no sunburn. The water just got too hot in the shower. I think there might be something wrong with the plumbing. And the bruises were from...um...a mosh pit last night. Yeah, there was this huge, giant, evil mosh pit of doom, and so everyone was pretty much thrashed."

I feel slightly proud of myself as they both give me nods. "Mosh pit of doom?" Spinner whispers in my ear, his warm breath moving over the back of my neck. I prepare to say something, when the sudden look of understanding that had come over my mothers face suddenly turns to horror. I raise an eyebrow while pulling my arms around myself, since it's gotten a little colder in here all of a sudden...

Oh no. Please, dear God, no.

I look down, and, because my life just couldn't get worse, I see the white fluffy towel pooling around my ankles.

-

As much fun as it was standing in the middle of my room, completely nude, pressed up against Spinner as I tried to protect him from my father, I don't think I **ever **want to go through anything like that again.

Currently, Spinner and I are walking to Craig's house –we were called over for practice, my ma and pop were more than happy to let us go after the tension, and I convinced myself that I wasn't going to spend the day angsting in my room- in complete silence, and I swear his face will forever be the color of cherries and blood.

Weird reference; don't ask.

I can understand him being embarrassed. I mean, seeing me naked is one thing, but while I was somewhat pressed against him –for his own protection!- and with my parents in the room...poor guy.

We reach the garage without a word uttered. He opens the door, and I give him a little smile –which he pointedly ignores- and step inside. I look up to see Craig sitting near Ash, very discretely trying to put his arm around her, and Jimmy and Hazel talking to each other over by the key board. Sighing as Ash ignores him, Craig looks up, giving a huge smile when he see both Spin and I.

"Hey guys!" he says, jumping up. "Glad you could make it. We gotta...hey Marco, dude, what happened to your face? You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks," I mutter dryly.

Jimmy begins walking over to us, a confused look on his face as he observes my bruises. "Dude...? I knew you were clumsy but...oh, damn, he didn't...?"

I shrug my shoulders, walking over to where my bass is resting against the wall. "Everyone ready to practice?" I ask them.

Four pairs of eyes are on me, getting me looks of pity, while Spinner is merely glaring at the guitar in my hands. I let out a sigh as I begin tuning the bass, getting ready for practice as always.

"Don't worry about it, guys," I tell them all, never taking my eyes off of the gleam of the metal I'm holding. "It was just cats and a mosh pit. Bad timing, I guess. Come on, don't look at me like that. You all know random crap happens to me. I..." I trail off, inhaling a deep breath as I feel tears begin to form at the edges of my eyes. I won't let them see me cry, not again. Not today. Today I want to forget what happened last night. "You called us over to practice. Are we gonna play, or not?"

They want to help, I know they do, they want to comfort me like they did after my bashing, but they can't. I think it might hurt them if they knew what really happened. As long as I lie to them, they can believe it. They won't have to go through this. Spinner can handle this; he wants to, he needs to help me. Jimmy, Ash, Craig –especially Craig- and Hazel just don't need my crap right now.

"Right," Craig says, walking over towards the microphone. Hazel and Ashley take their seats, and Jimmy comes over as well, getting his guitar. Spinner walks over, meeting my eyes only once, and they flash with something I can't quite place, but I can't help the guilt I have for knowing that I put it there. He stops on his way towards the drums, taking the piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Craig. He then takes his seat at the drums, grabbing the sticks before hitting them together.

"One, two, one two three four..."

_"I want to take his eyes out  
Just for looking at you  
Yes I do  
I want to take his hands off  
Just for touching you  
Yes I do  
  
And I want to rip his heart out  
Just for hurting you  
And I want to break his mind down  
Yes I do  
  
And I want to make him  
Regret life since the day he met you  
Yes I do  
And I want to make him  
Take back all that he took from you  
Yes I do  
  
And I want to rip his heart out  
Just for hurting you  
And I want to break his mind down  
Yes I do."  
_

As the music dies down, Ash and Hazel just give Craig strange looks, but clap anyway. We wrote this music months ago, just never had words to go with it. I guess that's what Spin was writing this morning. I glance back at him, then quickly avert my eyes when he looks up at me.

Maybe he got like, sudden inspiration or something, to finish it up. The anger he felt from Slade...and his frustration with Paige...must have been it. That's all it could be. I would have to be the most egotistical, self-centered, delusional person to think he wrote a song like **that **for me.

He held me?

---

Um...err...don't ask. That was a weird chapter. I had to have Marco going a little crazy after the incident. And I'm like, obsessed with Nickleback, and this song. If you haven't heard it, go by Silverside Up...now.

Marco: -shaking head- What is wrong with you? Can't you make a happy chapter?

Spinner: -grinning- I saw Marco naked...I saw Marco naked...I saw Marco naked! If only you hadn't had his parents in the room...

Marco: Eep!

Please review, and I'll give you...a tickle-me-Marco doll!


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Cool To Hate

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the songs, or anything in this story, except for Mozzy, Slade, some random other people, and quite possibly the plot. The title is an Offspring song, but that's okay, because I'm sure their not reading Degrassi slash anyway...

Author's Notes: Wow, look at all of the reivews! Thank you all so much!

Fucted Up Kid: -presents tickle-me-Marco doll- Here you are! Thank you for the compliment. Yeah, the shower scene was kind of spacey, and I'm glad you commented on it. I wanted to make it seem real, the way things might actually happen to poor baby Marco. And I just had to make Spinner write that song. It portrayed every thing I though Spinner would feel about what happened to Marco and his feelings on Slade. Since I'm writing in Marco's point of view, it's hard to get Spin's feelings across, especially since Marco is oblivious. The song was just a way of showing the way Marco's attempted rape affected him. Thanks for reviewing!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: Thank you for the review! I'm glad you found the humor.

Drew's Baby: I forgot to give you all the details of the Marco doll, didn't I? Hm...I'll fix that! Sure you can have one! Wow, I feel so happy that you put me on your favorites list. Thank you!

Cyanide Anytime: -hands doll- Here you go! It's all right that you haven't reviewed lately, just as long as you enjoy the story. (Sumbliminal message: review, review, review) Spinner is always cute! I'm glad you like Mozzy. I love her to death. My favorite orginal character in this fic. Thanks for the review!

Vixen-Dragon 16: I say the 'point' thing all the time, and people always give me that, "What the crap", kind of look. I'm glad you found it funny. Oh yes, I saw King of Pain. I **loved **it. Marco was in pain! He came out to his mommy and I was all like, "Aww!!!!" The side-story was nice too. The whole thing was grr-eat! Thank you for reviewing.

Enigmus: Of course Marco would protect Spinner. It's totally a natural reaction for both of them to stick up for each other, though their both to oblivious to notice it! They do belong together, as I've been attempting to convince my friends of. Thanks for reviewing!

Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies: I'm only updating faster because Degrassi is showing new episodes, which gives me inspiration because a pained Marco is my muse. My friends and I all like the same bands, and My Chemical Romance is right up there! Thank you for the review!

mydracomalfoy: Moshpits are fun! Me and my friend walk around poking everyone going, "Mosh." No one gets it. –cough- I'm glad you liked the Marco/Spinner/parent sequence. I couldn't resist putting it in there! Thank you for reviewing!

anjel919: Thanks for the compliments. Marco and Spinner will get to the...um...jumping eventually. You gotta give it time. They both have to come to terms with stuff, and Marco has to finally admit how he really feels about Spinner to himself before he does to Spinner himself. That's weird that you had dated someone who was called slut boy. Odd coiencidence. Thanks for reviewing, hope you like this chapter!

KinseySix: If Marco's parents hadn't been in the room, Spinner would have just said screw it and jumped Marco, and Marco wouldn't have done a damn thing to stop him. –grins- But they were, muwhaha. Of course you can have a Marco doll...if you promise to update 'Pretty Girl'. Oh, get you some! Now you must update if you want the doll of cuteness! I am such a genuis. Hope you like this chapter!

Bridget N: Oh yeah, Spinner has it real bad. Yay, my fic rocks! Thank you for the review!

Isdule07: I've always wondered what Spinner smelled like. Don't ask, I have weird thoughts. I bet he really does smell like bacon though, because he works at the Dot. Of course you can have a Marco doll. Someone really does need to make up one of those. I'd buy it! Thanks for the review!

Squirlie Jack: My friend has a Foamy the S quirel shirt. He says that I have to watch it, cause it's the greatest thing ever. I surely shall! Thanks for reviewing!

Marco: This story has over one hundred reviews. I would like to thank everyone!

Spinner: And I would like to thank everyone who has supported the defilement of Marco, by me of course, and am asking you to keep requesting the loss of his virtue!

Marco: ...okay then...

---

Chapter Thirteen: Cool To Hate

"You're going to have to do something," Spinner tells me as I open my gym locker, pulling out my uniform.

I know what he's talking about. There's only one thing he could be referring to, anyway. I merely remove my shirt, quickly grabbing the white one to replace it. The bruises are going away, and for that I'm thankful. It's hard to look in the mirror every morning, seeing them, reminding me about what could have been. He slams his fist on the locker and turns away as I begin to shed my jeans. When I'm finished changing into my uniform, he turns to me once again, his facial expression unreadable, his eyes pleading with me to do something** –anything**-yet at the same time holding burning fury that he's willing to release on just about anyone right now.

This has been eating him up inside, and I feel guilty for it. It's mostly my fault. If I had just let him leave the other day, pushed him away more, he wouldn't have to deal with it. I feel even more guilty for the fact that I need him. Not really guilty, just weak. I wish I could find a way to handle everything on my own, that I had enough strength to pull myself through this, but I know I don't. I know I need him, and he knows. That's why he stays.

Sometimes, I think it's the only reason he stays.

Sighing, he kicks the bottom of his locker, eyes flashing, then storms out of the locker room. "Spin, wait," I call after him softly, not even moving to catch up with him. He ignores me, pushing past the doors and leaving me alone. Well, alone unless you count the twenty or so other guys, but whatever.

I exit out of the locker room into the gym, looking around to see Spinner leaning against a wall, not even bothering to pretend to listen as Craig talks about something or other. He looks over at me, shaking his head, and I give him a little smile, hoping I can calm him somehow with the small gesture. I know he's upset. I know he hates it when I'm hurt, because it hurts him, and no one wants this kind of pain. But what am I supposed to do? Go to the cops? They would never believe me. I can just see **that **conversation now.

"_Well, hello, Mr. Officer...person...man."_

"_Hello. May I help you?"_

"_Yes, yes you may. Do you know Slade Avron? His father is Mr. Avron, one of the richest and most influential men in this county?"_

"_Of course! Why do you ask?"_

"_Well you see, he –Slade I mean- tried to rape me the other night."_

"_He did? My, you are such a tiny, weak, insignificant little thing. However did you get away?!"  
_

"_Simple! I used my magical powers on him!"_

"_...oh...well...um...security!"_

And, for obvious reasons which I won't take the time to point out, that would be bad. Very bad. Mozzy has sworn to exact some time of witchly revenge on him, but I forbad her. He'll know. I know that he will somehow link whatever type of 'revenge' Mozzy tries to exact on him to me, and I'll be dead meat. No, there's nothing I can do, except for pretend it never happened.

It's killing me to know that. I hate it. I hate this. I hate standing here in the gym, trying to pretend like I don't notice Spinner sending me those heartbreaking looks of frustration, sinking lower and lower into myself as I realize that Slade really is going to get away with it. He's going to get away with what he tried to do to me, what he probably did to someone else, and what he's probably going to do **again**.

How is that right? How is it right for someone like him to get away without anything falling upon him, while innocent people like Spinner have to suffer along with me? That's not the way it's supposed to be. It's not the way things happen on TV, or in the movies, or in books. The hero **wins**. The hero fights the demons and slays the dragons and saves the world and gets the girl.

But I'm no hero. I can't fight, I can barely control my powers sometimes, and well...it's kind of obvious I'm not going to get the girl, considering I don't even **want **the girl. Maybe this is my punishment. Maybe...maybe that's what I get for wanting Slade, and not Ellie or Hazel. Maybe because I was with him that night...

Oh, who the hell am I kidding? That's not why. It's because Slade is evil, low down, dirty, and deserves to burn for what he did to me and God only knows who else. It's not like the hero can't be gay. Just look at Superman, or Batman, or The Hulk, or Spawn. Honestly, **no one **can wear that much leather without being at least a little bit gay. Oh, and don't even get me started on X-Men.

I know I won't be able to fight Slade, but I'll find a way to do **something**. I'll make up for this. I'll make up for letting him get away for what he's done. I just have to find a way. For now, I have to find a way to deal with Spinner.

I begin walking towards him, jumbling a few words around in my mind, tossing them back and forth, trying to find something that will get him to let this go. I know it's probably useless, but I have to try. I know he wants to help me, help me do something to get Slade back. I don't know how I can find a way to make him understand the hopelessness of this situation.

"Well, well, well."

I freeze right in front of him. No...no way...no possible way in hell. He's not even in this class. I know he's not. Why would he be here? Why? **Why**?

"If it isn't little Marco Del Rossi."

No, he can't do anything. Not here. Not right in the middle of the gym. But then again, why couldn't he? Practically everyone here knows about his...preferences. There are plenty of people who hate him for it, but they don't have the guts to do anything, considering he could fillet them, not to mention what his father could do to their parents bank accounts.

I look up to see Spinners eyes, crossed and blazing, staring at the figure behind me. So, it must be him. He's never looked at anyone else with that kind of hate. I've never even thought that Spinner could possibly hate anyone that much. Slade is the exception to many rules, I've learned.

"What, too good to talk to me?"

I take a few steps forward –closer to Spinner, because I know that he's safe- before turning around. I am greeted with the last thing I want to see. He stands there, with his black hair mused and hanging around his face, framing his perfect features. His ice blue eyes are dancing with mirth and a small smirk plays on his full lips. The crimson Distillers shirt he wears hugs every curve, and his dark blue jeans fit just right as he stands there leisurely, one thumb hooked into the front loop of his jeans.

Two weeks ago, I would have been drooling at this site. Now the only thing I feel is bile rising in my throat, and I have to look away.

"Get the hell out of here," Spinner hisses. I let out a little sigh, hoping that maybe Slade is just here to sneer in my face and then leave.

I'm wrong a lot. Have you noticed that? It seems like every time something happens to me, something worse always comes right behind that. I think someone up there is against me. Why? What did I ever do to deserve this?

He steps a little closer, looking absolutely confident as he eyes me up and down, not even acknowledging Spinner's presence. I feel even more sick as those eyes, the ones I used to get lost in, are dragged slowly up my body.

Smirking, he says, "Guess what? Turns out, I never took a gym class. I was planning to take it, but just kept putting it off. So, imagine my surprise when yesterday Mr. Raddige comes into the AP Maths room and announces that as of today, I'm taking gym. Isn't that an odd coincidence?" he says conversationally.

"No," I say softly, voice barely above a whisper as I shake my head.

His grin widens. "Yep. So, it looks like we're having a class together. I hope we can put our...differences aside and work together, if you know what I mean."

I hear Spinner snort behind me. "Differences? You mean the little incident of you trying to **force **yourself on him?" he questions angrily.

His eyes narrow for a moment, glaring at the blond behind me, before meeting my own gaze once again. His voice drops a little, becoming deeper. "If you know what's good for you, you won't give me any trouble. Either of you."

I am prepared to let it go at this. I just wait patiently for him to turn on his heel and go talk to Mr. Armstrong or someone, just as long as he as far away from me as possible. After a tense moment he does turn, or at least begins to.

"And if you know what's good for you, **Slade**, you'll keep your hands off of Marco, unless you'd like to be better reacquainted with some of your internal organs," Spinner says. The way he says Slade's name, laced with such hatred, like it's poison on his lips, makes him turn around just as quickly as he had appeared.

That ever present, infuriating smirk is still there, like I think it will always be. "Well, I'll try, Mr. Mason, but I don't know if I can. I mean, he's just so cute." He chuckles a bit, taking a small step closer, causing me to gulp and step back. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Spinner? How hard it is to stay away from him when he's practically begging for it?" Another step closer, and all of the gym walls are closing in on me. I'm sure everyone can hear him. Everyone must know now.

I suddenly feel very, very dizzy.

"Shut. Up," Spinner hisses.

"He even tastes like vanilla. But, you already knew that, didn't you? Oh wait, I forgot." He smiles cruelly as he spits out the last sentence. "I got there first."

"Shut the hell up!" he screams, beginning to step forward. I turn around quickly, and grab his arms, halting him before he can go commit what is considered in this country first degree murder.

I shake my head, breathing heavily. "Don't, Spin. He just wants you to get angry."

His eyes narrow as he looks down at me. "Marco, let go. Just let me-"

"No Spin!" I say, hoping that no one hears the desperation in my voice. "I don't want you to hurt him. He just wants to get you in trouble. Don't let him win. Don't leave me." I give him a pleading look, hoping it will work this time.

He bristles, and I know his hand is just aching to make contact with any part of Slades body, but he manages to stay still. I don't turn around, knowing that Slade must still be there. I'll just stand here, hoping nobody notices. For the first time, I remember Craig standing near us. He too is giving Slade a murderous look, but doesn't move.

"Marco!" I hear someone say loudly. I spin around to see Mr. Armstrong standing next to Slade. With the large grin on his face, I doubt he heard our little conversation. He lifts his hand, motioning for me to come forward. I don't want to. I really, **really** don't want to. It's too close to Slade. Well, being in the same country is too close, but it's not as bad as standing right next to him. Slowly, gulping and trying to tell myself that as long as the teacher is with us, he really can't do anything. I move to his side, giving him a blank look as I wait for him to speak. "You know Slade, don't you, Marco?"

"Yeah," I murmur, not daring to look up into that smirking face.

His smile widens and he pats my shoulder. "Great! You can help him learn the ropes, so to speak. It may only be P.E., but still, this counts as a credit for young Mr. Avron here to graduate. I'm sure you'll help him get used to our schedule, right?"

My head moves to nod in the affirmative before I really know what I'm doing. Oh God, oh God, this is...this just isn't right. This **isn't **right. I don't care if I'm not the hero, but do I really have to be the victim?

"Of course he can," Slade says, throwing an arm around me. I tense and can't help but quickly move out of his touch, hoping Armstrong doesn't notice how jumpy I am. Luckily, Jerry just got his head stuck in the volleyball net again and is choking to death, so he doesn't. Not that Jerry suffocating in the volleyball net is a good thing, just that it distracts Armstrong.

I turn to him, gathering the courage to glare at him before I speak. "Don't ever fucking touch me again," I whisper, making sure to add the hatred in my voice as Spinner did only moments ago. I make a move to leave when his strong hand wraps around my arm, pulling me closer.

"Why is that? Afraid it might upset your little boyfriend, or afraid you might like it?"

For some reason, that comment is the last straw. Everything just comes down on me then. All the hopelessness, all the darkness, all the hate and self-loathing and pity and misery just explode behind my eyes. It's not fair, it's not right that he is here, and I, we, shouldn't be the only ones to suffer. So when I turn around, I barely have time to think as my hand clenches into fist and practically hammers into his eye. He staggers back a little, like there was actually force in my punch, and I see a trail of blood beginning to go down his face.

So maybe I shouldn't have called upon water, or ice, or um...you know...an icicle that's as sharp as a dagger...whatever.

My other hand also moves, making contact with his stomach, like he did to me only a week ago. I suddenly want to make him feel everything he put me through. The pain, the humiliation, the cold, all of it, but I can't. I won't. Even if he does deserve it, I can't hurt him. Not like that. I could never hurt anyone like that. I lift my knee, delivering my final blow to a rather sensitive area between his legs. He sinks to his knees then, hissing under his breath in pain as he stares up at me with glazed over eyes. He looks like he's ready to break my neck, so I begin stepping back. Not cowering, but slowly, never taking my gaze off his, never letting a moment of fear creep over my face.

I don't know how many people are watching us all now, but I can still faintly hear Jerry gasping and screaming for precious air, so at least Armstrong isn't watching us. Slade's lips begin to move, stopping only to take in deep breaths. Finally, after many moments, he has the strength to speak.

"Knew it," he says, wincing as if merely using his voice is painful. "Is that why you...were so...so upset? Because it was me...and not...him. He doesn't want you...no one does. I..." He takes in another breath, wincing a bit before meeting my gaze again. "You're...still mine."

There is a sound right next to my ear, a foot coming down hard on the gym floor, and two strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me to face them. I look up to see the side of Spinner's head as he glares at Slade.

"Like hell," he murmurs before turning back to me, pulling me flush against him, and pressing his lips to mine.

Um...

One of his hands comes up behind my neck, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. His other arm slides around my back, pressing my body closer to his.

Err...

My eyes are still wide open, staring into his, which are flashing fiercely. I know he wants me to kiss him back.

Uh...

Hesitantly I lift my hands and drag them through his hair, moving my lips over his lightly at first, then quickly, matching his pace and the fire he's putting behind it.

Yum...

He pulls back then, keeping my body pressed closely against his as he turns to look at Slade. I'm just sort of...dazed. I know I must be blushing, and I probably have this look of utter confusion and pure joy on my face, and I try to shake it off, but realize that I don't know what in the hell just happened. Oh wait, yeah I do. Slade said bad things, I kneed him, and Spinner kissed me within an inch of my life.

"Hi Craig," I murmur, waving at him lazily as he stares at me.

"Uh...hey Marco."

If everyone wasn't staring before, I know they are now. I can feel a million pairs of eyes on me, and Jerry isn't screaming anymore, so I'm pretty sure we might just be the center of attention. I just can't seem to take my eyes off of the boy holding me.

"You were saying, Slade?" Spinner questions, daring him to say anything or argue the claim.

Wait...claim? No, I mean, Spinner didn't...he was just showing Slade that I didn't belong to him. Not that that means I belong to Spinner. Does it? Now I'm just confused.

Slade stands up, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Whatever," he says coldly. "You think that proves anything? He doesn't belong to you, **Mr**. Mason."

"Well, he sure doesn't belong to you, **Mr**. Avron. And if you come near him again, I swear I will take that volleyball and shove it up your-"

"Gavin!" Mr. Armstrong screams. We all turn to him, staring. Then he begins to say something, but ends up just staring back.

Spinner's arms are still around me. He's...warm, and oddly comfortable.

"You...Slade," he says turning to him, then looks back at us. "Marco...I think you...um...Craig, office, now!"

"Hey! I didn't even do anything!" he yells indignantly. "I'm not the one molesting Marco..."

"Everyone to the office!"

We all begin shuffling towards the door slowly, all of us slightly in awe of what just happened.

"No, Jerry, you can stay. Everyone can stay, except for the people who have to go to the office!"  
  
I hear some people stop, not really understanding the request. I'm pretty sure it's only Spinner, Slade and I who are going, but Craig follows us anyway. Eventually everyone else turns back as we make our way silently down the halls. Spinner and I are no longer touching, but we are walking side by side. Slade trails far behind us, and I'm thankful for that.

How are we going to explain **this **to Raddige?

We walk into the office, and are quickly told to take a seat while Mr. Raddige finishes his conference. Craig plops down into a chair, a look of something akin to confusion and bewilderment on his face. I sit next to him, still in to much shock to say or do much of anything. Spinner...kissed...me. Slade...Spinner kissed me. He was so warm, and soft, and his hands...Spinner kissed me!

He did it to make Slade lay off though. God, Slade, now what is he gonna do? Maybe he won't do anything. Maybe he'll just decide that I'm not worth it. Maybe he'll forget about Spinner too, and just leave both of us alone, for good. That's doubtful, but it's still fun to pretend that everything will work out for me in the end.

I've realized that it's much easier to be a pessimist. A few months ago –maybe it was years, I can't seem to remember anymore- I was looking at the so called bright side of every situation, straining my eyes to see what good could possibly come out of seemingly horrible situations. I was looking at the glass as half full, when now I realize that I was lucky to have any water in there to begin with. Believing the worst, allowing yourself to believe that there is nothing you can do, letting your hopes and dreams be shattered is so much easier than trying to look for the good, it makes me wonder why I even tried in the first place. Why was I so bent on not being a failure? Why, when it seems as though nothing can save me in the end, was I trying to keep up the fake smiles and pretending to be happy for everyone else's benefit?

I've decided that, even though it is simpler to just let life take it's natural course, lay down and die, I'm not going to. I don't why it is I want to try and work and live so much, but I do. I'm not going to let the Slade's and Dean's and freaky dream guy's of the world rule over us. I'll do it for Paige, for Ellie, for Craig, for myself, for everyone who's given up.

Don't ask me what brought on that little revelation. Kissing Spinner seems to spur unanticipated contemplative moments of deep, life alternating things.

"Juicy Fruit!" I say happily, smiling as I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a piece of gum. Ha, thought I'd forgotten about you, didn't you? I would never forget about the chewy goodness of Juicy Fruit!

Err...okay...you know how you'll be having a conversation –or be thinking- of something that seems completely vital at the moment, and then suddenly something completely irrelevant and incredibly stupid pops into your mind, and you're like all excited because you just remembered it. Everyone does it, whether it's the name of a song they've had stuck in their heads for a few weeks, the name of that actor you really thought was hot in that one movie, or the lead singer of the band you just can't quite place your finger on.

I seem to have those moments at the most inopportune times...

Looking over to my side, momentarily halting my consumption of aforementioned chewy goodness, I see Craig giving me an odd look, then begin to scoot his chair away from me a few inches. Nervously I give him a small smile then begin chewing at normal speed again, not even bothering to look over at Spinner. I know he's standing next to me. I don't have any idea where Slade is, not that I particularly care at the moment. He might be in the office, or he might be in the hall, calling up his father and complaining; I don't know. I decide to keep my eyes glued to the alternating blue and green floor tiles and not find out.

I don't even look up when I hear someone –Raddige- exiting the principals office. He clears his throat, and I feel someone –Spinner- tapping me on the shoulder, signaling that it's time to go in and face his almighty wrath.

Following behind Craig, both Spinner and I slowly step into the smaller office, both of us hesitating a moment before moving from the doorway to the three –isn't that a convenient number?- padded chairs in front of Raddige's desk. I'm sitting in between a red faced Spinner –I glanced at him while we were sitting down- and a blank faced Craig. The door closes, leaving us alone while Raddige goes outside to check out whatever Mr. Armstrong is going to tell him about the little...incident in the gym.

At least five minutes pass before Raddige returns. He comes to his desk, sitting down slowly, pushing himself towards us with an apprehensive look on his face. His eyes dart from face to face, giving us all odd looks before he begins to speak.

"You...Mr. Mason, I do not...why would...it's not that **I'm**...um...I don't think that...never..." he trails off, stopping to catch his breath. He allows his forehead to rest against his hand.

Silence follows. A very uncomfortable, tense, awkward silence.

"Juicy Fruit?" Craig questions, shaking his head as he raises an eyebrow at me.

I shrug. "I can't help it. I just remembered I had it. It's like, the most exciting thing that's happened to me in weeks!" I tell him in defense.

"Hey," Spinner says, hitting my shoulder. "What am I? Chopped kibble?"

"...you mean liver..." Craig corrects.

Glaring, the blond to my side crosses his arms over his shoulders and stares at the wall. "Whatever. Same difference."

"Actually, kibble is a genetically made product that will help your pet grow stronger, and have a longer, healthier life. Now, liver, depending on what your referring to, is either a vital organ, that is sometimes completely underappreciated, like the colon for instance, or..."

"Shut up Marco!" three voices yell in unison.

I frown, settling back into my chair a little. "Well there really is no such thing as same difference..."

"Mr. Mason," Raddige begins again, his voice calmer this time. "Will you please tell me why you found it necessary to, as it was so delicately put by Mr. Knox, you were playing hockey tonsil with Mr. Del Rossi in the middle of gym class?"

Spinner's eye twitches, and I can already tell what he's thinking.

_Jerry will wish that he **did **suffocate in that volleyball net. He will die for this! _

Something along those lines, anyway.

"Well, you see, I...um...it was all Slade's fault."

"I see. Mr. Avron caused you to begin forcing yourself on your friend during volley ball?"

"Exactly! Hey...wait...there was no forcing involved. Ask Craig!"

"Mr. Manning?"

"...what?"

"No, Slade was messing around with Marco. And you know, I can't just stand back and let that little bi- I mean let Slade push my friend around, I decided to stick up for him!"

Raddige blinks. "I still do not understand how the molestation of Mr. Del Rossi..."

"How many times do I have to say it? I was not molesting him. I was **helping **him."

"...helping him do what exactly, Mr. Mason?" Raddige questions with a raised eyebrow. And is...is he...yes...yes he is! He's giving Spinner a suggestive look!

Spinner looks a wee bit horrified, and somewhat freaked, and I just can't believe that our very own principal is this perverted. When did that happen?

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Spinner turns, casting a glance at Craig. "Will you tell him what happened? Maybe he'll understand you!"

Craig's eyes wander towards Spin, then me, then to the principal. He blinks a few times. "Sorry, wasn't paying attention. Who's going on? I mean, uh, what?"

"Damn it Manning," Spinner says, rising from his chair, lifting an arm as if he's ready to strike the boy.

"Mr. Mason, sit down this instant! I will not have you harming another student today..."

"What do you mean** another **student?" His hand reaches out, cupping my chin. I am forced to move my head back and forth a bit, as if some little show. "Does he look like he's been harmed to you?"

"You may have mentally scarred young Mr. Del Rossi. Such a...thing...can be very traumatic for someone his age..."

"Traumatic? What do you **mean **traumatic?!" he says rather angrily, his hands shaking, which causes my head to begin rocking back and forth, rather uncomfortably.

"Uh...Spin," I begin as I hear something in my neck pop. I don't think it's supposed to do that...

Raddige has his eyes narrowed as he whips his glasses off, slamming his other fist onto the desk, showing that he will not be intimidated by Spinner, that he is the principal here, that he is still the one with complete authority.

Poor, delusional Raddige.

Spinners strong hand is still wrapped around my chin, not enough to hurt, but enough so that I can't pull away. I raise my hand, wrapping my fingertips lightly on his wrist, tugging at his arm so maybe I can release myself from him, but his grip never wavers. I wonder if I look like a bobble head. I bet I do, what with Spinner swinging my defenseless head back and forth, left and right, and every other which way while continuing to glare daggers at the man sitting behind the faux oak desk.

"Unhand that young man, Mr. Mason."

"Unhand?" Craig says, tilting his head to the side before glancing at me. "Who says unhand any more?"

"This instant!"

Spinner let's go of me, though I fear the damage has already been done. My neck is stuck at an odd angle, and I can't seem to turn my head from the small thirty degree angle it's at. Summoning my strength, I try to twist it to the left, only to bite my lip to keep from crying out at the sharp pain which shoots through my neck. As bad as this whole not being able to move my neck or head thing is, it's not the worst thing of this situation. No. Spinner just had to tilt my head in this certain way. If he was still standing up, it might not be so embarrassing, but with him sitting right next to me, it appears that I am starring at his crotch.

I should have stayed home today.

"Listen," Spinner begins, his teeth and fists clenched. "You weren't there, all right? You have no idea what really happened."

Frowning, Raddige interrupts him. "No, I believe I have a fine idea. Mr. Armstrong informed me that, after helping Mr. Knox out of the volleyball net, he turned to have a small talk with the rest of the class to inform them all that Mr. Avron would be joining them for this trimester, only to see yourself grabbing Mr. Del Rossi, then...forcing...a kiss on the young man."

"Forcing?! Hold on just a..."

"And after Mr. Del Rossi...responded...the two of you broke apart, only to exchange a few hateful words with Mr. Avron." Taking his gaze away from ours –well, Spinners, actually, since everyone is seemingly oblivious to the fact that my neck has been paralyzed by Spinner's incessant bobbling...that is **so **a word- he looks at Craig. "That is how it happened, isn't it?"

"...I wasn't exactly paying attention."

Spinner snaps his head towards Craig, giving him a fierce look. "Dude, what exactly is your problem today? You've been spacing out all over the place. Have you been hanging around the girls warmsroom again? You know what those fumes will to you, man."

"No, nothing like that. I've just been...I don't know...spacey lately. I think there was something weird in those mushrooms Caitlin brought back from Amsterdam. I packed some for lunch today, and we had them for dinner last night. Joey kept regaling us all with tales from his college years, which seemed to involve peanut butter...a lot. And Angie kept hopping. It was kinda freaky."

We all stare at Craig –well I'm starring mentally anyway- for a few moments. I don't know what he's doing exactly, but I imagine he pretty much has a blank look painted on his face. Only Caitlin would have enough bad luck to get mushrooms –they happen to be legal in Amsterdam- and somehow get them to Joey, Craig and Angie. That does explain why he's been acting so weird today, though. I knew he was on something!

"Mr. Manning, why don't you go see the nurse," Raddige suggests apprehensively.

"Okie dokie!"

I hear him shuffling out, and can't suddenly I understand why animated characters faint when others do something incredibly stupid. Craig's guardian's girlfriend mysteriously got potent mushrooms past security and got him stoned, and he doesn't even realize it. That's just...that's just sad.

On the bright side, this is going to make one hell of a story at our ten year reunion.

"Would you please explain to me, Mr. Mason, why you found it so difficult to keep your hormones in check and refrain from molesting your friend in the middle of gym?"  
  
Spinner sulks, shifting in his chair, giving me an even greater view of his –drum roll please- crotch! My innocent virgin eyes. I don't want to see that! It burns!

...then why aren't I looking away?

Wrong thoughts! I can't...he's my friend! Bad, perverted, dirty little mind!

"What is up with everyone accusing me of molesting Marco? What is that, the word of the day? Do you all have some type of obsession for Marco getting kissed by cute guys? What's wrong with you people?! Your sick, all of you!"

"Um, Spinner, you, Raddige, and I are the only ones in here," I remind him softly.

He stops for a moment. "Oh, right. Sorry...got kind of carried away. It's just that everyone keeps...Marco...why are you starring at my crotch?"

"Honestly boys, haven't either of you heard of self-control?!"

"I'm not doing it on purpose! My neck is stuck! I'd look away if I could." I'm lying. "I don't **enjoy **staring at your...um...area, Spin." Totally lying. "It's the last thing I want to do!" I resist the urge to touch my nose to see how many inches it's grown.

A sigh of relief escapes his lips. "Oh, good then. Hey wait a minute, what do you mean it's the last thing you want to do? Why wouldn't you want to stare at my crotch? I know plenty of people who would..."

"Mr. Mason, out!"

"Out?" He sighs. 'Where do you want me to go now?"  
  
"Back to class, the bathroom, home, I don't care as long as you get out of the office!"

"Sir, what about my neck...?"

"I want him gone!"

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Spinner grumbles something else before standing. He begins walking towards the door, before bending down to whisper in my good ear. "Meet me in the bathroom, 'kay?"  
  
I make a grunt, my signal for yes. I realize suddenly that –as pathetic as this is- if he promised to kiss me like he did earlier again, I'd meet him in Antarctica, so long as I got to feel those lips again. I'd forgotten how good it felt for him to hold me while he was kissing me. It's probably because the first time he kissed me I convinced it was because of a spell, and that I had no feelings for him what-so-ever. Not that I'm admitting I do now. Because that would be wrong. Liking...wanting...loving my best friend, who is as straight as a board by the way, like **that**. Especially when he so obviously has no interest in me.

It doesn't matter that he kissed me with as much passion as I'd caught him kissing Paige with. It doesn't matter that his hands were as warm and soft as comforting as his lips. It doesn't matter that he held me once or coincidentally wrote a love song –well, it was kind of like a love song- that wasn't about me, but could have been. It doesn't matter that it felt like there was something in that kiss, or that he keeps tabs on my love life, or that sometimes when he looks at me I want to pretend there's something other than friendship in them. It doesn't matter that I think he really would kill Slade if I asked him to. It doesn't matter that he's jealous sometimes. It doesn't matter, not now, not then, and it never will, no matter how much I wish it did.

"Mr. Del Rossi, I would like to hear the story from your point of view."

I take in a deep breath, not sure how to start without sounding like a whiny little weakling who depends on his friend who happens to be his crush –err...I mean...I'm not admitting to anything- to save him from lust crazed psychos.

"Slade...Mr. Avron was hassling me. He was He kept putting me down and provoking Spinner. He was saying...saying that I...well he...Spinner can get caught up in the moment sometimes."

I can hear him sighing. "What exactly did he say, Marco?"

I'm a bit startled by him using my first name, and the fact that his voice is so soft, like he cares. "He said..." I trail off. I can't tell him. I can't say anything. I can't get Spinner out of this one, either. I just can't beat Slade, not even if it is something as small as getting Spinner out of trouble for supposedly 'molesting' me.

"I need you to tell me what he said. I need exact words. It's all confidential, I won't tell anyone, if that's what your worried about."

"No," I answer softly.

"I already know about his...preferences. If you think that I'll, I don't know, discriminate or not property punish you boys just because you are, well, **boys**, you do not have to worry. I will not lie to you and tell you that because this situation involves three males other people will look at it the same way, but I will. I honestly don't care who Mr. Mason is making out with, whether it is Mrs. Michalchuk or you, as long as he's not doing it at school. So please, Marco, what did Mr. Avron do to provoke Gavin?"

Maybe it's the sincerity of his voice, or the fact that he's one of the first adults who is actually being honest about such a sensitive subject, but I spill.

"Slade was making passes at me," I admit.

"Define passes," he says, his voice still even.

I lick my dry lips, taking in a breath before I continue. "He was saying that he and I should put aside our differences and be...friends. We used to go out, but broke up."

"May I ask why?"  
  
Do you know how embarrassing this is? I'm kind of glad my neck is stuck like this. At least I don't have to look him in the eye. "He's ready for...stuff. I'm not."

He pauses a moment. "Marco, if he has done anything, tried anything, so much as-"

"No!" I say sternly, hoping he can't tell that I'm lying. "We broke it off. Spinner was being, well, Spinner. Protective of me and stuff. He and Slade aren't exactly...close. So, he told Slade to get out of there, and Slade said some stuff..."

"Some stuff isn't exactly the detail I need, Marco." 

"Slade made implications that he'd had...something Spinner wanted...which is ridiculous because it's Spin, but that didn't shut him up. Spinner kept getting angrier, and that's when Armstrong came and told me that I was supposed to help Slade out with stuff. After he left to help Jerry, I told Slade to keep his hands off of me. He made a comment about, well, his hands and me...I kind of lost it and hit him."

"Hit him?" He sounds somewhat astounded.

"Kneed him," I elaborate, and I swear I hear him stifle a chuckle. "I was standing by Spinner as he...recovered...and Slade still kept on. He kept saying that...he kept making claims..." 

"Claims which were?"

Softly, hesitantly I answer, "M-me. Spinner just wanted to prove that I didn't belong to him. He wanted to make sure Slade would leave me alone and wouldn't bother me. I think he thought that if he kissed me...showed that I was...I don't know...with him or something, Slade would just forget about it. I don't think he counted on everyone else being witness."

There is silence for a few moments, and I take in a deep breath, unsure of what's going to happen next. Will he call Slade in here and suspend him or something? Will Slade come after me? Will he come after Spinner? I shouldn't have said anything. I know I shouldn't have. What else could I have done?

"Why don't you go to the nurse for your neck, and to check on Mr. Manning. Afterwards, I want you to get Mr. Mason and direct him back here. I'll be calling your parents to pick you up for the rest of the day. You'll each have detention tomorrow for an hour after school. And, please don't worry yourself over Mr. Avron. He will be taken care of, without this incident even being mentioned. I've enough reasons for his expulsion without using this as evidence. I doubt you will be seeing much more of him."

I blink a few times in surprise. Expulsion? As in, Slade go bye bye? No more being afraid that every time I turn a corner I'll be jumped by a horny grade 12? Yee-haw!

...this is good news.

I stand up, trying to give him a grateful smile, but I can't seem to manage it, not with my head tilted at this angle, anyway. I go to the door and leave, heading towards the nurse, noticing that there is no Slade in sight.

This is great. Slade is leaving! No one will have to worry about him anymore. No one here, anyway. My happy mood is brought down just a peg as I realize that, even if he does finish off the year at another high school, it'll probably be the same way there. No matter where you go, there will always be that group of kind weak, naieve kids that people like Slade will find a way to mainipulate. Even in University. I wish I could let Mozzy, or even Spinner take their 'revenge' on him, but I can't. They'll end up getting hurt, or regretting what they've done. I can't hurt him like he hurt me. I want to, I do, but I can't. I couldn't live with myself.

I make my way to the nurse. I push the door open, and see Craig sitting on one of the cots, staring happily at cracks in the ceiling.

"I see a unicorn!" he exclaims with a smile.

The nurse gives him an odd look as she scribbles something down on to a sheet of paper. She looks up, seeming a bit startled as her gaze settles on me. I give her a small wave.

"I'm here for my neck," I state sheepishly.

She looks from me to Craig, who is now hanging upside down from the cot. She shakes her head, sighing heavily as she stands up, motioning for me to take her seat. I sit down, tensing as her ice cold hands make contact with my skin.

"I swear they don't pay me enough for this," she mumbles. "Now, this may hurt a bit, so I want you to think of something relaxing..."

"Hey look, no hands!"

The hands that were slowly, gently bending my neck suddenly twist sharply to the left, and I let out a whimper of pain. The nurse whips around to see Craig giggling as he rolls around on the floor, a trickle of blood running down his forehead. I can only guess he did something and hit his head, but I don't know. I'm kind of worried for my own health at the moment, since now my neck is kind of stuck the other way.

Craig looks over at us, waving. "Marco, hi! Hey...my head hurts..."

"Dear...what did you do?!"  
  
"Uh, nurse, do you think you could...I mean it's really uncomfortable to have your neck like this..."

"Pretty birdies..." Craig murmurs as his eyes spin for a moment. "Don't go so fast birdies, you'll hurt yourselves..."

"I'm getting the principal!"

Oh yeah. This'll be a story for the grand kids.

I think I'll just leave out the part about grandpa being a coward and letting an attempted rapist run rampant over the country. Oh, and the part where I was starring at Spinner's crotch. I'll just keep that one to myself.

---

Spinner: Tired of the same old toys? Bored with the repetitive absurdness of placing plastic dolls into so called 'dream cars'? Do you want something exciting? Something that will give you a rush of adrenaline while still having the ability to make you go, aww? Then we've got the toy for you! –grabs Marco, who appears to have been covered with fake black fur, probably by Craig and Jimmy, as it is covered with lollipops and Velcro- You're very own, tickle-me-Marco! Yes, you heard me, a tickle-me-Marco! For the low, low, **low **price of only $29.35, you will own this wonderfully crafted, remarkably lifelike, life-size, fully automated doll.

Craig: -walks onto stage carrying a black suit and a pink dress that are coincidentally Marco's size- Your tickle-me-Marco is good for several...um...uses. Not only will he giggle insanely and mutter random phrases for you to please stop, thirty three in all, but he can also be used as your very own dress up doll! Take him shopping and use him as a manikin to model your new clothes, or just dress him in drag for fun!

Jimmy: The tickle-me-Marco comes with hair gel, trucker hat, Downtown Sasquatch cd, cell phone, and catholic school girl uniform. Along with the thirty three phrases begging for mercy, he also has fifty other random phrases, including the famous heaviest box in the world tune! Order now and receive a free –with the extra cost of $5.15- Mozzy plushie!

Spinner: -excitedly pokes Marco's stomach-

Marco: I'm not saying it.

Craig: -still looking at the camera with a huge smile- Dude, you have to say it.

Jimmy: Come on, if you don't, then we'll have to stand here all day, and I'll miss my date with Hazel, **and **my face will be stuck like this.

Marco: No! You can't just treat me like I'm some type of toy! I have feelings! I have a voice! I have-

Spinner: -whispers something in Marcos ear softly- ...and I'll even let you tie me up in the scarf... –whispers some more- ...and I saved the Hershey's chocolate... –more whispering- ...the feathers.

Marco: Hi, I'm Marco! Will you be my Master? –grabs Spinner's hand and runs off stage-

Craig: Um...please call 555-GLOMP-MARCO for your very own tickle-me-Marco.

Jimmy: A few lucky people have already received theirs. Review, and order one for yourself as well!

Ellie: Cash and check are accepted, please no COD's. Supplies are limited. Offer may not apply in all areas. Please check your local Wal-Marts, K-Marts, Targets, and participating Hot Topics. Side-effects of the tickle-me-Marco include sleep loss, drowsiness, unexplained burts of hyperness, random use of the Italian language, and loss in interest of any and possibly all other activies.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Consequence

Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, then I would have taken over Canada. Hey, does that mean I'd have Sum 41 as my willing...slaves? –twitches- I should really get to becoming dictator for that country, or something...

Author's Notes: As usual, you guys gave lovely response. You all seemed to like the last chapter, especially the Spinner/Marco-ness. You all give me too much credit, really, but thank you so much!

KinseySix: Yay! New chapter of Pretty Girl. That makes us happy! Of course you can have a Tickle-Me-Spinner doll. –cackles- Thank you for reviewing, it made me feel really special! Oh, I read your livejournal. I took the same quiz, and I got Ellie too! –smiles happily- It's sad, because I was talking to my boyfriend and my other friend –who happens to be a boy- and for some odd reason we were discussing who's closets we would live in. Me, being the idiot I am, go, "I would live in Stacey Farbers closet!" They just kind of looked at me, and I was like, "She's Ellie...you know...on Degrassi?" Blank looks. "She has pretty red hair, and she's really cool, and I have this werid obsession for her character." Blank looks, scooting away. It was sad. But I'm not alone! Someone else thinks she's great, too!

Visitor-to-the-Echoside: Craig would totally be oblivious enough to not realize he was stoned. Mr. Radditch has always been deluded. He actually thought Emma would stay out of something! Ha! Thanks for the review.

Enigmus: Sorry, their not getting together in this chapter, but there will be a revelation! Thanks for reviewing!

Fucted Up Kid: -throws out Mozzy plushie- Of course she won't hurt you! Um...I think. –nervous smile- Oh, I surprised you? Wow! Thank you for the kind review!

Bridget N: -hands Marco doll- Someone needs to invent one of those! I would buy it and name it and take it with me everywhere I meant. I mean...thank you for reviewing!

Uh...wot's the deal: Craig's always stoned, they just never show it on the series. –cough- Thank you for reviewing!

megtyped: I am awesome, aren't I? –giggles- Thanks for reviewing!

torian Princess: Marco is oblivious because if he knew that Spinner was madly in love/lust with him, then the story would just be them kissing for 15 chapters...wait...why is that bad? –shakes head as she hands out Marco doll- Thank you for the review.

Squrlie Jack: I'm glad the chapter was enjoyed. Thank you for reviewing!

RiseAgainPhoenix: -blushing- Thank you, thank you so very much. I've never known how to spell Radditch's name. Yay-ness for Spinner/Marco! Thank you a lot for reviewing. Your comment made me all happy. –smiles-

anjel919: I'm loved! Thanks! I am going to buy Jake Epstein a shirt that says "Real Men Believe In Unicorns," because of that line. The cop would need to call security because at our homecoming game, one of the so called "cops" at school kept calling for back-up and security guys to make sure we stayed on the bleachers. Honestly, no one goes to football games to watch football!

Marco: Especially since you guys lose all the time...

Thanks for the review!

Isdule07: -blinks- I take it you liked the chapter! I'm glad it amused you. It was great fun to write. Thanks for reviewing!

This chapter is a wee bit shorter than your used to, but that's only because the next chapter is like, uber important, and...things happen.

---

Chapter Fourteen: Consequence

There are some incidents in your life, that no matter how trivial they are, will impact someone else in a way that could make your head spin. Then there are the other incidents that, at the time, seem incredibly vital and colossal to your life, when in the end you realize it meant nothing. And, of course, as everyone must know, there are those unique incidents that not only bring **your** world crashing down around you, but it makes the rest of the universe stop for a moment as well.

No matter which category, one thing is always for sure.

There will be consequences.

They are a part of life, something we've all known through our entire lives. For every action, however minute or huge in importance or meaning as it is at the time, there will be a reaction. The reaction is never certain, but you know that something will happen.

If you smile, you will either get smiled back at or be given the finger. If you jump, you will either fly or fall flat on your face. If you walk out into the middle of the street, you will either have Lady Luck on your side or you will be flattened like a pancake. If your best friend kisses you in the middle of gym, you will either be labeled a disgusting fag who will burn in Hell, or a brave, courageous young soul who has portrayed something that the rest of this world seems terrified to even acknowledge.

But, depending on the reaction you yourself gave when your best friend kissed you in the middle of the gym, the circumstances that led up to your best friend kissing you in the middle of the gym, and the reaction the principal gives to your best friend kissing you in the middle of the gym, can change both of those opinions in a split second.

When I walked into school on Wednesday morning, I had already prepared myself for the worst. For the name calling, the teasing, the words that would be slandered on my locker, even the new bruises that would be added to my body. I was ready for all of it. I'd set up my barrier and decided that I wasn't going to let one thing get to me. I was going to be strong and deal with every sneer, every punch, and every homophobic comment that was thrown my way. Spinner was ready too, because I had talked to him the previous night on the phone and we'd worked out our battle plan. We would dance around the subject as much as possible, and stay away from those whom we knew would give us trouble.

So, when I walked into the caf on Thursday morning, I didn't know that time would stop. I didn't know that the chatting and clanging of utensils against dirty lunch trays and the many other activities and sounds that are usually being carried on in the caf would desist so abruptly. When the first kid stood up and began to clap, I wasn't prepared. When the second and third kids joined him, my jaw slacked and I couldn't stop blinking. When the entire population –practically, anyway- of Degrassi was up, clapping and chanting my name, I could have swore I was dreaming.

I wasn't.

I'd gotten to school late, so the bell rang only moment after I arrived. The clapping stopped, and everyone began piling out into the hall, slapping my back and give me thumbs up as they left. I just stood, confused and apprehensive in the huge sea of people as they came by.

The only thing I could do was simply stand there, asking myself, _Say, self, what in the hell is going on? _To which self did not respond. Which is a good thing, Mozzy assures me. She says that talking to yourself in no way implies any sort of mental disorder, it's only if yourself answers back.

I caught up with Spinner, who seemed to be in as much shock as I did.

"What was up with that?" I had asked him unsurely. "Since when were the people of this school all members of the rainbow committee?"

He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as he did so. "Dude, I have no idea what's going on. All I know is that I haven't had some little jerks come try to beat the shit out of me, and no one's made a move to do anything to you, so I'm not complaining." He then looked down, giving me a huge smile, and I couldn't help but be envious of his seemingly carefree attitude.

What if we had just been in the calm before the storm? What if everyone just turned on their heal and started beating on us with their chemistry books? Well, they didn't, if you're wondering, but I could have sworn they would.

I was nervous, and I guess Spinner could tell, because he kept sighing heavily every time I would look around to make sure no one was going to jump out at us. He finally just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to my locker, dryly ordering me to hurry up and get my books and stop being such a paranoid freak.

"Aye aye, Capin'," I had murmured as I grabbed my stuff and began piling them into my arms.

It was going fine, just standing there retrieving my things, before...before **they **came. It was the mort horrific, terrifying thing that I had ever experienced in my life. The pain, the humiliation, the utter...creepiness of the entire thing rivals nothing that has ever happened to me. I've never been so scared in my life.

"You're Marco, right?" a seemingly innocent, curious voice had questioned from behind me.

I had turned, seeing five girls –about our age- surrounding Spinner and I. The girl who had addressed me had long blond hair which she wore in pigtails, a baby blue shirt on, and a too-short black skirt. She twirled the ends of her hair in her index finger, giving a soft smile and giggling along with the rest of her friends. Spinner and I exchanged apprehensive looks. I must have looked scared, or just tired, because Spinner moved in front of me a bit, falling into the protective role of Super Friend yet again.

"Who wants to know?" he questioned in his deepest, most intimidating voice.

They giggled, then gave a huge 'aww' in unison, before giggling more.

That was when I started to become afraid.

Smiling sweetly, a girl next to the blond, Emily I think, stepped forward, extending a container of some kind towards me. "We made these for you," she exclaimed happily. A few girls giggled again, and she turned back towards them, making a motion for them to be silent before turning back to us. "I got the recipe from my mom, and we made them just last night, so their fresh!"

As Spinner watched the girls warily, I timidly leaned forward, peeking underneath the tin foil covering to see a huge pile of chocolate chip cookies. I blinked a few times, confused, not understanding at all what type of occasion called for cookies, but rather happy. There's nothing like homemade cookies! If only I had known then, what I knew now, I would have run away screaming.

They seemed so nice, so kind, so incredibly sweet and innocent, that I didn't think it would hurt to stay and speak with them for a few minuets. Why, why must I be such an awful judge of character?

"OK...thanks," Spinner told them.

Emily smiled brightly. "No problem!"

He looked back at me, seeming a bit freaked, and tilted his head, signaling he was ready to get to class. "Thanks again girls, they look great." He turned to leave and began walking away. I turned to follow him, but Emily reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

"He's so cute!" one of the girls squealed.

I stared at her before looking back at the dark haired girl who had grabbed me. "Um, I have to get to class now," I informed her gently. I looked to my side to see Spinner looking around wildly. I realized he was searching for me and waved, somehow catching his attention. He gave me a stern look and marched back over to us, reaching for my hand.

"Come on Marco, we gotta go. Quit hanging around with these girls."

"Aww, he's jealous!" the blond cooed. "That's so adorable!"

Spinner gave her an odd glance. "What do you mean jealous? I'm not jealous. I just want to make sure we get to class before getting a tardy, since I don't want another detention."

A brunette, whose name I do know, just can't remember right now, gasped a little. "You mean, they gave you detention for yesterday?"

Word gets around at Degrassi.

I nodded, discretely pulling my arm from Emily's grasp. "Yeah," I told her.

"I think that's awful," the blond said. "They shouldn't have given you a detention just for kissing your boyfriend."

"Yeah well, wait a minute...boyfriend?!" Spinner screeched. He shook his head, taking in a breath to explain the misunderstanding. "Listen girls, I think you've got this all wrong. Marco and I are-"

"So cute together!" another brunette said sweetly. "When we," she said, gesturing to the other girls, "heard what you two did yesterday, we were so shocked, but proud. I mean, it's so stupid how girls and their boyfriends are always all over each other, but you never see a couple brave enough to do something that for, everyone else, is so completely normal. I think it's really cool what you guys did, taking on the system like that." She reached out and patted the top of my head.

Emily nodded. "Exactly. You both are pioneers, and you shouldn't be ashamed of what you did."

Sighing, Spinner said, "Thanks for the support girls, but we really gotta go..."

"So, like, what exactly did you guys do?" the blond asked. "I mean, I heard you kissed, but were you like having sex in the showers?"

I gave her a horrified look, which was mirrored exactly in Spinner's own face. Emily hit her shoulder, and she responded by pouting. Emily turned to us, giving us a rueful smile.

"Sorry, she's a little bit **too **curious about what other activities you two do in the school gym."

Spinner began to shake his head furiously. "No, we don't **do **anything in the school gym. I only-"

"I can't help it!" the blond said. "It's just so romantic! It's not like I was asking them to give me details of them giving each other hand jobs in the janitors closet..."

I was about to say something when I felt a hand on my face, beginning to stroke my chin. Terrified, I looked to see the two brunettes standing much too close to me, giggling as they touched my jacket.

"Oh my God, you're boyfriend is adorable!" the first brunette exclaimed to Spinner. "Yes you are, cutey!" She ruffled my hair affectionately before starting to pinch my cheeks.

Yeah, you heard me. She dared to touch the hair.

"Hey, do you know any other gay guys?" the blond questioned.

"You just want to know so you can like, videotape them or something," the girl who was pinching me murmured.

"Hey, I'm not **that **much of a pervert."

It was at this time –when the brunettes were murmuring something about having the same pair of jeans as me, and were tugging at the back of them to see what size I wore- that Spinner noticed I was going through that odd attack of the rabid fan girls. I gave a pleading look as I attempted to squirm away from the girls. Quickly, his arm shot out and was instantly wrapped around my shoulder, pulling my body against his.

"Hands off," he said.

Ah, my hero.

They all stopped for a moment, giving us somewhat hurt glances. Emily straightened up, then smiled brightly before rushing forward to give us both huge hugs.

"You both are too cute!" she whispered, leaning up to kiss Spin's cheek, and then bending down –that is so not funny- to peck my cheek as well. The rest of the girls 'awwed' once again before waving, then skipping off to class.

See, I **told **you it was horrifying.

I've run into those girls a few more times. While each of their names have somehow evaded me, I have gained many more cookies. I swear, their like walking bakeries! And they won't stop squealing! **Or **pinching my cheeks -not just the ones on my face, mind you- **or **messing with the hair, **or **kissing me and telling me how cute me and Spinner's great boy love affair is.

What is wrong with them? Their nice and everything, and it's not as if I don't thoroughly enjoy the free cookies, but they scare me. I think Spinner is a little bitter, but who could blame him? When he finally gets a flock of screaming fan girls, it's only because they think he has a boyfriend.

When we got to first hour, I was still a bit weirded out by everything. I hadn't heard one comment or anything, and was seriously worried about the mental health of my fellow classmates. At first I thought Mozzy might have put some type of tolerance spell on everyone, but I've decided that that's a bit of a stretch.

As soon as we entered the classroom, all talking stopped. Mr. Simpson wasn't in there yet, which made me wonder if the display in the caf was only some sort of decoy to lure us into a false sense of security until they got us alone and tore us limb from limb.

Spin and I made our way to the few empty seats. I took a chair by Ell, still making sure to be wary of the rest of the class.

"Ellie," I whispered, relief flooding my system when people began to turn away. "Do you know what-"

She shook her head, stopping me before I went any further. "Not totally. All I know is that you and Spinner are some sort of heroes."

I gave a thoughtful look for a moment. Was it possible that the rest of the school had just, I don't know, all of a sudden become uber duber gay rights activists? I sincerely doubted it. Why was everyone acting so...creepy? I hadn't been looking forward to the hell I was sure I would be put through, but that's what I had been expecting. I'd been anticipating a full day of drama and tears and bruises and possibly blood, but so far all I'd gotten were some fan girls and chocolate chip cookies. That was far from what I'd expected.

For a second, I had a sliver of hope in the rest of the world. I thought that maybe my bashing, all the hate, the disgust and misunderstandings were some type of awful nightmare. That maybe everyone really did have an open mind, and would accept us, accept **me**, and I couldn't stop smiling. I could have a world where I wouldn't have to be afraid. A world where I could step outside holding Spinner's hand -I'm just using him as an example, of course- singing a show tune as loud as possible and no one would hate me for it, because they would just accept it.

Do you know how sometimes, when your young, when your still pure and innocent and you know nothing of the true horrors of life, you had those moments where you just stood outside, eyes closed, the wind blowing against you, and you were so at peace, so incredibly serene because you just **knew **everything was right. That's exactly how I felt in those few moments. I thought, for one fleeting, beautiful minute, that everything really would be all right.

And then it was gone.

Mr. Simpson entered the room, telling us all how he was sorry for being late, and hoped we had behaved ourselves. He then gave us the lesson, which was nothing but some type of internet word search. We were all working quietly, some of us ecstatically with our new found views of humanity and all it's glory, when some kids began getting rowdy, and Simpson had to get on to them. He stood up and walked over to their desks, waiting patiently until they noticed his presence.

"Is there a problem here?" he questioned, sounding mildly amuseed, mildly upset.

One of the kids, a so called 'punk', Brandon, just shrugged. "No. We were just having a...discussion."

"Oh really? Well, would you like to share it with the rest of the class?" There was a sort of angered joking in his tone, the ones you always hear when teachers ask you retorical questions.

But, Brandon just grinned, shrugging his shoulders. "Whatever." He stood up, and suddenly a feeling of dread began to creep into my mind. "We were just talking about how our," he stopped to motion three more people sitting around him, "new heroes, are Marco and Spinner."

Mr. Simpson blinked, a little bit confused, before tossing a glance back at both Spin and I. We too exchanged looks, and I saw something flash across his features which I wasn't sure was a good thing.

Unable to let it go -and God, how I wish he had- he continued to press on. "And why would that be? And what, prey tell, does it have to do with the assignment?"

"Well, nothing, really. But for the reason, it's simple! They single handedly got rid of Slade Avron."

At first, the comment didn't make sense, and I was just confused as to what Slade had to do with anything.

Then it hit me.

The clapping, the smiles, the new hero like treatment, wasn't because Spinner or I had the courage to come out and face the world, to be ourselves. It wasn't because the Degrassi population was suddenly accepting us for who we were. The world hadn't changed over night. They still hated us. They still wanted us gone, dead and buried.

"See, if they hadn't been the two brave, courageous souls they were yesterday, that freak would still be roaming the halls, making us all sick to our stomachs." He turned towards me, give a huge thumbs up. "Thanks dude!" he said. "If not for you and Spinner's act of school pride and selflessness, all of us guys would still be living in fear of dropping the soap."

Simpson just starred at him. I'm sure he had no idea what to do. They don't cover that in the teachers manual. A few of the kids starting shouting, cheering, more clapping, and I felt sick. They didn't think Spinner and I were heroes, they thought we were martyrs. To them, all we did was throw ourselves on the line so we could get rid of one of **them**. A fag who was dirtying up their precious little school.

I wasn't a child anymore. I had just been pulled straight back into reality, and I realized in that instant how much it hurt.

"All right, class, settle down," Mr. Simpson instructed, placing his hand on Brandon's shoulder and sitting him down. "This subject isn't really open for discussion at the moment. Just, get back to work."

"Can't we have like, Spinner and Marco appreciation day? I mean, after all, they did do a lot for us. Kissing another guy?" Lane shouted out from the back. "Disgusting! They really took one for the team!"

How could I have been so stupid to think that anything had changed? How could I have been so diluted to let myself believe the world was on my side? Society is never going to accept my so called "alternative lifestyle", so why should I get my hopes up? My heart sort of sank then. Not only am I one of the gays that everyone seems to hate so much, I'm also a witch. God, a gay witch? If that one ever got out...I would be burned at the stake. People never accept the unknown, and witchcraft is pretty damn unknown to people. If anyone ever found out about my powers, I was dead.

I had even less of a chance to be accepted with my powers.

I think that, for at least a second in that computer room, I kind of hated myself and everything I was. My stomach churned.

"Dude, to get rid of that sicko, **I **would have kissed Spinner," Max commented.

There were a few chuckles, then a small hacking sound, made by Lane. "Sick dude. What are you, gay?"

"I want you, Laney-boy!" Max, laughing hysterically while Lane continued to make more sounds of disgust.

I looked over and saw Spinner, a look on his face that I don't think I recognized. He looked sort of, I don't know, I can't explain it. It wasn't really anger, but it must have been something close. Maybe he was upset about how lightly they were taking the whole thing. He kissed me to protect me from a rapist; they though he did it so they didn't have to deal with he thought of an openly gay guy walking through the halls.

"Would you guys drop it already?" he finally said, causing most if not everyone to stop. "It was no big deal. So what if we got rid of the fagot? We're not heroes for forcing that bitch out of the school, so you can all drop it now. It's over. Let's move on."

There were a few gasps in the room, and I'm sure I saw Brandon giving him a death glare. I felt bile rising in my throat, not that I could help it. My stomach was turning so fast my head was spinning. After having that moment, that one feeling of thinking I belonged, I was accepted, being destroyed so quickly, then shoved down my throat, I didn't know how much longer I could stomach being in that class. I was just so sick, sick of everything. Sick of hoping against hope that I could tell someone I loved them without worrying if the wrong ears would hear, sick of hiding who I really was because I knew the consequences, sick of sitting in that dinky computer chair, realizing just how screwed up that kiss had made everything. It made me realize what an awful place the world really is. It made me realize that...God...it made me realize how much I want Spinner to kiss me for **real**, and how ridiculous that notion was.

"Oh my gosh, Spin, you just said the b word!" said Max, astonishment in his voice.

I looked up to see Spinner blinking in confusion. "What? You mean fagot?" (1)

Paige just sighed and hit him over the head with her notebook. "Idiot," she murmured underneath her breath.

"Gavin," Simpson said through clenched teeth, his voice sounding angered and astonished. "I want to see you outside, right now."

He sighed as he pushed himself out of his chair. A few kids hit him on the back playfully as he passed them by, then headed out into the hallway. I just sat in my chair, replaying the words, and realizing how completely Spinner-like the comment was. He would never really mean to offend me, not now, and I'm sure he didn't mean it to sting as much it did. But I couldn't ignore it. That's all I was. Wasn't it? Just a stupid little fag? Sure, I was different, because I was his friend, but in the end, I meant the same to him as every other homo on the planet.

Nothing.

I sat there, and I could have swore the world stopped spinning for a second. That couldn't have been right, could it? Spinner cared about me, didn't he? He was sticking by me now, and he'd come to terms. I wasn't really worthless to him, was I?

And suddenly, the Brandon's, Max's, Lanes, Slades, Emily's, and every other nameless person who hated or loved what I was didn't matter, because there was only him. Only Spinner. When it all came down to it, if he had to choose, if he had to admit how he truly felt...what would he say? Who's side would he be on? Why would he help me and protect me if he hated me? Then again, couldn't he just be putting on a front? Couldn't he just be feeling guilty for all he had put me through in the beginning? Did it...did **I **still disgust him? Deep down, did he really just want to shun me away forever, but couldn't, because of a heavy consciences and Paige's nagging?

I couldn't be in that classroom any longer. I stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair over, but paid it no mind as I rushed to the door. I swung it open and ran into the hallway, passing by a silent Spinner and a glaring Simpson.

"Marco, where are you going?" Simpson said and I slowed slightly, stopping only long enough to look back at him.

There was an odd look on Spinner's face, caught between anger, embarrassment, and sorrow. I don't know what was wrong with him, and for a second, I didn't care. I had just realized that he was one of the only things that mattered to me, and I might not be anything more than a burden to him.

"Bathroom," I answered.

Mr. Simpson sighed a little. "Don't you think you could have held it until I got back inside the classroom?"

I shook my head, wary of what the movement did to the pounding that had started in between my eyes. "I think I'm gonna be sick," I told him honestly.

He sighed for a moment before nodding his head. I swiftly turned and finished the jog to the bathroom. As soon as I entered, I flung myself into one of the stalls and promptly placed myself above the toilet. My hands trembled a bit, my breathing was coming faster, and I could feel hot tears stinging my eyes.

I loved him, didn't I?

No, please God, no, not him.

But if I didn't, then why did everything suddenly hurt so damn much? Why did the thought that he might not really care about me as much I thought he did make me sick? Why did the sudden image of he and Paige holding each other, smiling and laughing, make that tear roll down my cheek. Why did I find myself willing to trade body parts so that he would kiss me again?

If it wasn't love, I don't know what it was. I suddenly laughed at myself, because I felt like the stupidest person on the face of the planet. How could a few stupid comments like the ones that were just made make me realize that I was in love with my best friend? Maybe...maybe I had always been. Maybe I just kept pushing it back down, trying to ignore it. Maybe those few stupid comments just set off something inside of me, triggering things that I had always known deep down.

I've thought about it more, and I've come to the conclusion that if I don't love him, it's something that's pretty close. Something that's very disturbingly close. Too close.

I emptied the contents of my stomach, coughing and crying and hating myself for realizing something I'd most likely known for months. There was a warm feeling surrounding me, and at first I thought maybe it was some freaky side effect of witchcraft or something. I felt a strong hand rubbing my back, soothing the tense muscles there, while another hand ran through my hair, pulling back my raven locks.

"Marco, it's OK. Calm down, dude."

Hearing Spinner's voice made me cry harder, but I stopped the regurgitation fest to turn to him. His face had a look of concern on it, and his eyes seemed so crystal clear, like the river, like you could read anything from them. When I didn't see anything, any kind of emotion at all, I turned back and threw up again, sobbing a bit more. After that, I quickly put the seat down, allowing my weight to fall against Spinner's. His arms encircled me, and for a second, he held me just like that, petting my hair while I tried to calm my breathing. He eased me out of his embrace and I watched him through blotchy eyes as he stood up and flushed the toilet. He turned back to me and offered a hand, pulling me up. With one arm wrapped around my shoulder, he let me to the faucets, turning on the water and grabbing a paper towel.

The taste of bile was disgusting in my mouth and I bent down, gathering a few handfuls of water and gulping them down. Spinner handed me the towel and I washed my face off before throwing it into the trash can. The two of us just sort of starred at each other for a few moments. My eyes were still red and blotchy, and he just sighed, looking completely at a loss at what to do.

"Marco," he began, trying to say something, but there was nothing **to **say. Almost timidly, at least from my point of view, he reached out a hand, running his fingertips through a lock of my hair before tucking it behind my ear. I flinched away before he could do anything else. I couldn't be alone with him in that moment. I didn't want to deal with him.

"Let's just, get back to class, all right?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head before heading towards the door. I followed behind him slowly, lifting a hand to rub my stinging eye. The walk back to class was awkward and filled with tension, and I was kind of thankful when we made it back. No one said or did anything when returned, and we were left to take our seats in peace.

When I sat back down, a little IM was flashing at the bottom of the screen. A bit apprehensive, I clicked on it, sighing when I saw that it was Ellie's screen name.

crimsonpages41 (2): Where'd you go?

ItalianStallion (3): Bathroom. I wasn't feeling to well.

crimsonpages41: That explains why you look like Hell.

I peered over to my side, giving her what I hoped was a playful glare. Looking up to make sure Simpson didn't see me, I typed my reply softly.

ItalianStallion : Thanks Ell. Love you, too.

crimsonpages41: Spinner's stupid.

ItalianStallion : ...duh...

crimsonpages41: He didn't mean what he said.

ItalianStallion : The fagot comment? It doesn't bother me.

I was totally lying, but she didn't have to know that, even though I'm pretty sure she did. It's Ellie. I can't lie to her, even when I try. She'll always be able to see past my barriers. I'm kind of greatful for that.

crimsonpages41: He's just kind of going through a rough time. You know, with Paige and all.

ItalianStallion : What do you mean? I thought they were back together, happy and joyful as always.

She didn't answer for a long time. It got me a bit worried. I thought maybe she wasn't going to reply, but then she did.

crimsonpages41: Marco, they broke up a little over two weeks ago.

I sort of stared balnkly at the computer screen, blinking once or twice as I felt my jaw falling to the floor. I turned to look at her, an expression of disbelief on my face. I had no idea what she was talking about. Spinner had never mentioned anything to me, and I hadn't exactly talked to Paige in a while.

ItalianStallion : What?! Are you sure?! No, that's not possible.

crimsonpages41: It is so possible.

ItalianStallion : No, no, it's not. It can't be. Why would she...why would he...why would **they**? Are you positive? What makes you so sure?

crimsonpages41: Other than the fact that Paige told me herself?

ItalianStallion : ... Maybe she was kidding!

crimsonpages41: Trust me, she wasn't.

ItalainStalian: How do you know for certain?

crimsonpages41: Because...well...you see...she and...I mean we...

ItalainStalian: What?!

crimsonpages41: Me and Paige are kind of going out, OK?

"WHAT?!" I screamed, shooting up from the chair. The entire class turned to me, and a few people snickered in the background. I felt heat rushing to my face. I looked down to see Ellie's gaze glued to the computer screen. "I mean, um..." I trailed off a bit, unsure of how to save myself. "Wow! Has anyone else noticed how clean these floors are? They sparkle. See," I said, pointing down to the tile. "It's so, shiny." I turned to Mr. Simpson, who gave me a confused look. "Just um...just though I should point it out." I took my seat.

The IM was flashing again when I got back to looking at it.

crimsonpages41: Nice save.

ItalianStallion : You...and Paige? Are like, together? Like, together together? This is huge! Why didn't you tell me sooner? How did it happen? When? Details, details!

crimsonpages41: After my whole...you know...well I was really down. One night Paige just popped up at my house and we talked for, hours. We've been friends ever since. She and Spinner were having some problems, and she kind of...start hanging out with me more. You remember that whole locker incident with you and Spinner and Slade? Well...we didn't go to lunch. She pulled me off to the washroom, and we talked, and kind of...somehow...ended up kissing. When she invited me over that weekend she said that she loved Spinner, but they just weren't meant to be. She has her suspicions that he's in love with someone else anyhow. Anyway, we kind of, well I mean we were all alone in her house, and...well the next thing you know she's my girlfriend.

Paige and Ellie have kissed? They kissed? In the girls washroom? Spinner was in love with someone else? They were dating? Paige was Ellie's girlfriend? Who exactly did Spinner love? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?!

As we sit here at the lunch table, Spinner gulping down hand full of hand full of brownies -walking bakerys, I swear it!- I am still asking myself these questions. Even though I was given this information two days ago, I still don't understand any of it. My mind just can't seem to grasp the idea of Paige and Ellie...Ellie and Paige...Spinner is in love with someone else? I've asked, more like begged, Ellie to give me a hint to who it was Paige suspected as Spinner's new love interest, but she won't tell me.

"Do you want one?" Emily questions, waving a brownie in front of my face. I blink as Paige leans up, whispering something in Ellie's ear which makes her blush and giggle insanely.

"No thanks," I say. I can't help but find the relationship fascinating. The way they act, it's so obviously they liked each other, but I missed it completely. Am I really that oblivious, or was it just that my preconcieved notions that they could only be interested in members of the opposite sex that kept me from seeing it?

"These are really good," Spinner says, shoving another into his mouth. "Hey, what are those?" He reaches out to grab the blonds container, but she pulls it away.

Smiling -sadistically?- she says, "These are nothing. Just some bunt cake."

His eyes lit up.

"Oh! Oh! Can I have a piece?"

I swear, Spinner would do anything for any kind of cake. He's like, obsessed with it. It's kind of creepy. He would probably sell his grandmother if he **might **get cake. It's sad. It's pitiful. It's disturbing.

It gives me ideas.

She shakes her head. "I'm afraid not. This is only for those true fighters of equal rights. For the people who are willing to risk everything to show what they believe in. For the-"

Spinner reaches to his side, grabbing me, causing me to yelp as I find myself suddenly situated on his lap. My entire face is red, and I make a move to stand up, but he wraps an arm firmly around my waist and holds me tightly. I squirm a little, unsure if I really want him to let me go, or if I'm just putting up the little show so the kids in the caf will think me nothing more than a victim. I feel a little guilty for the cowardous, and decide to just tell him to let me go, before I feel him whispering in my ear.

"Don't you dare move," he tells me, and I take in a little breath, hoping he's not realizing what his nearness and his warm breath on my skin does to me. "If you do, their not gonna think I'm gay anymore, and I won't get cake."

And you know what's sad? In this situation, that sentence actually makes sense.

He squeals in delight -freaky, huh? But this is **cake **we're talking about- as a piece of gooey cake is passed to him. He begins to happily munch on it while I sit warily in his lap. I decide that I'll just take this opportunity to enjoy myself -although, with the way my life has been going lately, this probably won't be the last time I get to sit in his lap- and I relax. For a moment I wonder if I'm hurting him or anything, but I'm not actually that heavy. Besides, bombs could be going off, and he wouldn't care, as long as he got cake.

I wonder if I mean as much to him as cake?

I wonder exactly what he's willing to do to me to get cake?

I wonder how much **I'd **be willing to let him do to me to get cake?

Blushing for a moment, I realize that since he is such a good friend, and does love the sugary pastry so much, I'd be willing to allow him to do a lot of things.

Consequences suck.

---

(1) I totally ripped that off the South Park movie. If you've seen it, you know what I mean. If you haven't...just don't look at me like that.

(2): Crimson because of her hair -which is so pretty and I want to play with it- with her cutting -it's a really big part of her character- pages -not so subtle refrence to Paige, wink wink- and 41 because I think everyone should have an obsession with Sum 41, and therefore put it in their e-mails.

(3): I'm sorry, but that's totally Marco's e-mail!

For anyone is confused as to why Marco just out of the blue discovered he has deep feelings for Spinner, it's because I'm trying to make this story kind of real like. I've discovered some of the most life altering things while doing stupid things. It just seems like the right moment for Marco to finally admit his affections for Spinner.

Spinner: I get to sleep with him now, right?

Marco: ...

Spinner: Right?

Marco: -smiling cheesily- Review, and find out!

Spinner: RIGHT?!


	15. Chapter Fifteen: When The Smoke Clears

Disclaimer: See this shiny gum wrapper? This is the **only** thing I own.

Author's Notes: Squee!

Blackowl892006: Wow, your review was in all capital letters! You really liked it! Aww, your compliments made me blush. Thank you so much! –throws a Tickle-Me-Marco-

Ash: Yes, indeed I do. There are three lovely Sparco's done by KinseySix. There is also Fits Like a Glove, by Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Duckies. All of them are awesome! I've also started a Sparco vampire ficlet. Thanks for reviewing!

fox eye: Spin was playing Go Fish with Mozzy because Spin is Spin. –shrugs- That's the only way I can explain it, anyway. Sometimes he gets a mind of his own in these stories...

Chanelle: Yeah, some parts are suppose to be funny. I'm glad your enjoying this fic so far, I hope you like this chapter too!

Cyanide Anytime: -throws a PWDLATWDST club t-shirt- Yeah! Thanks for the review!

Sloan Miette: Eep! I'm updating! Please don't sick Mozzy on me! I think Spinner and Marco are absouletly freaking adorable! Thanks for the kind review.

smoothNcreamy: I'm updating! Thanks for reviewing!

Amanda: Oh, getting you all hooked is part of my evil plot! I mean...err...I do it for the drugs? Thanks for reviewing!

drew's baby: -giggles- Gotta love the priceless. I swear, one of these days, I **will **make a tickle-me-Marco doll. Mark my shiny! Thanks for reviewing!

KinseySix: Everyone go read Cake, right now. That story was awesome! Yay for dirty doll sex. –laughs- Aw, thanks for the review.

torian princess: -blushes- Aw, thanks. I'm not that great, but I try. –throws tickle-me-Spinner as well- Thanks!

Squrlie Jack: Thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

MyMindIsMyEchoside: -highfives- Yeah, go those of us who get Ellie! Thank you for the review.

anjel919: Oh, well thank you for the kind review. Hope you like this chapter!

RiseAgainPhoenix: -laughs a bit- I was at a total loss on how to spell that word. I hate it with a passion, and never say it, so I didn't real know how to spell it. Thanks for the kind review!

Enigmus: Yeah, I know, I've been lacking on my updates. I'll try, I promise! Thanks for reviewing!

Bridget N: Get together? Oh, you poor thing. I have to make them suffer before they get together.

Marco: What do you call the last fourteen chapters?!

...plotline...

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has been reviewing, and all my fellow Sparco and other slash couple writers. You all rule.

---

**Chapter Fifteen: When The Smoke Clears**

Geometry is stupid.

Geometry homework is even stupider.

No one understands it. I mean, **no one**. I don't think Mr. Lyle even gets it! It's evil, and it should die, an awful, horrible, painful death. In case you haven't noticed, I hate Geometry with a burning passion of...um...hatred. The only reason we have to do this stuff is because it's all some sort of conspiracy; the teachers want to slowly drive us all insane so they don't have to deal with us anymore! I've yet to find solid evidence to support the theory, but I will someday. Come on, you **know **it's true.

"Boys night," I overhear Jimmy say. "We'll go see the new slasher fic down at the mall, grab some buffalo wings, play some pool; no girls in sight!"

"And that's a good thing because...?" Craig questions.

"Because girls are stupid," Spinner comments as he takes his seat in front of me. I peer up at him underneath my bangs before returning my attention to the book –evil, evil!- in front of me. I feel him patting my shoulder. "Marco will agree with me."

"Yeah, yeah, girls suck. God guys...I don't have time for your perverted comments right now. I have to figure out whether this chick can figure out if she makes a right triangle with the duck. Why does she need to make the right triangle with the duck, anyway? She's such a freak."

I can feel their eyes on me, giving me confused looks. I ignore them, instead frowning as I try to count up the angles. Apparently, triangle AFI equals 143, which isn't right, because it has to equal 180. Mr. Lyle has drilled this into my brain, into all of our brains, and yet these idiotic people are trying to tell me it equals 143. Ha, they can't fool me!

"I know you equal 180. I don't care what..." I pause to look on the front of the book. "Jared Carter, Jonathan Cyrus, Jane Carry, or Jeremiah Carson say! Their just trying to throw me off! They can never defeat me. I am Marco, the angle master!"

I look up to see Spinner starring at me, a kind of terrified look on his face. Heh...perhaps I went a wee bit too far, but I can't help but be frustrated. Whoa, I just realized something. All of the authors names have the initials of JC. I knew it. It really **is **a conspiracy.

I look up when a pair of hands wrap around my calculator, trying to pry it out of my own grasp. "Dude, drop the calculator," Spinner tells me seriously.

"No," I say, trying to pull it back. "Mine. Give it back."

"You're gonna drive yourself crazy with this stuff," he assures me, yanking a bit on the top. "Besides, this is English. Why are you doing maths anyway?"

I glare at him defiantly as I try to pull my calculator back from him. "Because I didn't have time to do my homework last night, so I have to finish it up before class. Now give...it..." I tell him, scowling.

Jimmy and Craig exchange apprehensive looks.

Spinner continues pulling, and we keep up our mini-tug-of-war for the calculator. "Just let...go...of it," he says, his face twisting as he continues pulling.

"Never," I say confidently.

"Dude, it's just a piece of plastic with numbers. Hand it over."

"It's mine, damn it. Give it."

"No, you give."

"No, you give."

"You give!"

"You give!"

"Mr. Mason, Mr. Del Rossi! Hand over the calculator this instant!"

We stop our argument long enough to look up, seeing a rather irritated Kwan standing in front of us, her hand outstretched and waiting expectantly. Each of our grips on the calculator falters, and as soon as it is back in my possession, I quickly hand it to her. She gives us a cold glare before walking back up to her desk. I sulk a little, pouting, then glare at Spinner when he looks back at me. Maturely, he sticks out his tongue and turns around in his own seat.

I look over, seeing Ellie and Paige giving us blank looks. "Boys," they both mumble in unison.

I scowl down at the Geometry book, mentally cursing it. It's not my fault I couldn't finish it last night. Mozzy kept forcing me to do magic warm ups. Lift this, set that on fire, turn that to ice, control this hamster...it's tiring, and after a while, the redundancy of the lessons does get rather annoying.

I'm totally gonna flunk Geometry.

-

I stare at the test paper I hold, my eyes never straying from the deep red 76 at the top of the page. All right, so maybe I didn't flunk, but I was pretty close. No more supernatural practices on school nights. If Mozzy's insane schedule keeps up, I'll never graduate! The bell rings and I stand up, my gaze darting around the room to catch a glimpse of a friend to walk me to my locker. I never go alone anymore. It's so scary. Those fan girls will jump out at you when you least expect it!

I see Jimmy and stand up, walking over to him. He looks over, a small smile on his face, which quickly disappears when he sees me. I lift my hand and wave to him. He frowns, looks around frantically, then turns and quickly hurries from the room. I blink once or twice. What was **that **all about?

Confused, I continue to look around. Upon seeing no one else, I choke down my fear and begin the journey to my locker. Why did Jimmy run away when he saw me? That was...weird.

As I turn the corner, I see Jimmy and Craig, huddled together with thoughtful looks on their faces as they speak quietly but rushed. Raising an eyebrow, I walk over to them, smiling though I'm still confused as to why Jimmy avoided me earlier.

"...but I really wanted to see that movie. I mean, dude, Angelina Jolie. Angelina!" Jimmy says, his eyes narrowed.

Craig sighs, placing his hand on his friends shoulder. "Look, Jimmy man, I know. I want to see it too. But he said that..." He trails off, his gaze moving from the boy in front of him to me. I smile brightly. "Um, h-hey Marco!"

I tilt my head a little as I shift my books. "Who said what about what?" I question. "You guys aren't backing out of guys night, are you?"

The look on their faces tells me yes, and instantly a feeling of disappointment floats through me. Well that...that just sucks. I feel like I hardly ever get to spend any time with them anymore, especially Jimmy. We all used to be so close, and now it's as if we barely know each other anymore. I hate to think that our friendship is just going to crumble and disappear. Almost like Spinner and mine.

Spinner...hey, if their not going, then that means it's just Spinner and me, all alone for the whole night.

God, I can be so selfish sometimes! If they don't want to come, who am I to attempt to lay a guilt trip on them and force them to go? If they want to stay home -coincidently leaving me all alone with Spinner- then they can just do that!

"Hey guys," Spinner says, coming up behind me. "What's going on?"

Jimmy shifts, a huge, cheesy smile twitching his lips upwards. "Nothing. Nothing at all. We were just discussing our plans for tonight," he says, and his voice sounds strangely...fake.

Nodding, Craig adds, "Yes, yes we were. We," he says, throwing an arm around Jimmy's shoulder. "Jimmy and I, have decided how incredibly sexist and pigheaded we would be if we went out to a movie if only to try to get a glimpse of something underneath Angelina's shirt. And also, our girlfriends would highly disapprove. Therefore we have decided that, as already taken men, we shall not be attending the cinema with you tonight, which also means we shall have to forgo the entire boys night out."

I give him an odd look. Did he just say forgo? What the...? Since when did Craig speak in proper English? Wait, since when does he have a girlfriend? Did he and Ash get back together? See! I told you no one tells me things!

"Oh gee, that is to bad," Spinner comments, his surprise and disappointment just as fake and forced as Jimmy's was earlier. "I suppose that means Marco and I will just have to go alone. It can just be a bachelors night."

I look between them all, confusion in my eyes as I do. What's going on? I know something's going on, I just can't exactly place it. It's like they planned this whole meeting or something. But...why would they do that?

"Guys-" I begin, but am quickly cut off.

"Well that's settled." Craig grabs Jimmy by the wrist and leads him away. "See 'ya guys later!"

I blink at them as they go off, walking quickly down the hall. My mouth hangs open a bit, a question prepared to fall from my lips, but I realize I've nothing to say. I have no idea what just happened. I turn my attention back to the blond teen to my side, looking up at his face with a quizzical expression. He gives me a huge smile and pats my shoulder.

"Guess it'll just be us tonight," he says, that same smile, permanently fixated onto his features.

I nod, a bit apprehensive of the entire thing. "Yeah, guess so. Hey, did you think that they were acting a bit, um...weird?" I question.

He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders as he pulls his hand away from my shoulder and runs it through the side of his shaggy blond hair. His soft, curly, shaggy hair, that smells like cinnamon, and suddenly I'm kind of jealous of his hand.

There's something **seriously **wrong with me, isn't there?

"I didn't think they were acting weird at all. In fact, they seemed perfectly normal to me!" I prepare to say something else, but he stops me, turning on his heel and beginning to head the way Craig and Jimmy ran off to moments earlier. "OK, well, gotta go Marco see 'ya later bye!" he says, rushed, then disappears down the hall.

I shift my books, still in a haze of confusion as to what the **hell **is wrong with everyone today. Deciding that it's not a good idea to dwell on it, since dwelling on such things could induce much unneeded pain, I head to my locker.

With a sigh, I walk to my locker, placing all of the books back in their correct order before grabbing my Civics book. I turn, looking out through the crowd, making sure that there are no crazy females who are going to jump up behind me and attempt to molest me whilst they comment me on my cuteness. Shudder.

Using my new, nifty little power-walk, I make it to Civ in record time. I quickly grab a seat near the back, making sure to rest my folder on the desk in front of me. I think I'd like to have a discussion with Craig, who luckily has this hour with me. As I wait for him, I allow a little grin to flitter across my features. Me and Spinner, totally alone, for one entire night. I probably shouldn't be this excited, but I am, and I can't help it. There will be no one to interrupt us. We can just...talk, hang out, like we used to. It will be a great bonding time for the two of us. I can finally get the dirt on the Paige and Ellie thing, and maybe even try to offer some support for him; I am his friend, after all, and I know he would do the same thing for me.

Not to mention the fact that we're going to see Blood and Guts, which will give me an excuse to get all snuggly with him whenever the scary parts come on.

"Hey Marco."

I look up at the sound of my name to see Ashley sitting in the seat which I had been planning to save for Craig. I open my mouth, preparing to inform her of this information, when a sudden light bulb goes off in my head. Duh! I can just ask **her **about it. I mean, come one, it's obviously Ash that he's dating. Who else could it be? Manny? No way. One, she's already going out with JT. And plus, it's just obvious that he and Ash are meant for each other. Their like...destined. Besides, if Manny married Craig, then her name would be Manny Manning; they couldn't possibly be together.

Perfectly content with this assumption, I decide to ask. "Hi!" I say brightly, giving a huge smile. "So, when did you two get back together?"

An odd expression passes over her features. She blinks a few times before tilting her head to the side. "Huh?" she asks.

"Hey, come on, don't keep the good news a secret!" I tell her. "I know." Leaning in so other people won't hear, I whisper, "Craig told me."

Her eyes narrow a but, almost looking suspicious as she speaks. "Told you what, exactly?"

"You know," I answer at the obvious question. Sighing, I decide that if she wants to play dumb, I should just go along with it. "You know...that you and he are back together."

And suddenly, her face is completely blank. Barren, expressionless, neutral...like Switzerland.

Um...OK. Wouldn't she be happy about the fact that she and Craig are back together? Oh wait, maybe I wasn't supposed to know! What if Craig just slipped about it because he was so excited that he finally got the women of his dreams back? Crap, I probably just ruined something. Mentally slapping myself, I begin to speak, trying desperately to think of something that could possibly save my friend in this situation. I am interrupted, however, when Craig decides to make his appearance.

Can you say, bad timing?

He gives a huge smile as he walks towards us. Ashley is still staring at me blankly. Uh, that's actually kind of starting to freak me out now. "Hey guys," he says brightly as he stops to the side of our desks. "Hey Ash, not to be rude or anything, but I was planning on sitting..." he trails off as she slowly turns, then stands up, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Oh no, I'm so sure you wouldn't mind, you egotistical, big-headed, rude, lying, cheating...hose head!"

There is an odd type of reverberation as she slaps him as hard as she possibly can across the cheek. He let's out a little 'ouchies!' before she turns around and stomps out of the classroom, declaring she has to go to the bathroom. Coach Langston just nods, then sits down, motioing for Craig to stop being such a 'whine baby' and sit down already. He does so, his palm still pressed to his most likely still stinging cheek.

...right.

Err...what just happened?

Craig turns back to me, giving me a look which pleads for some type of explanation as to what just happened. "What was **that**?" he asks. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing," I assure him in a harsh whisper. "I swear. All I asked was when you guys had gotten back together, that was it. Maybe she just likes to see you in pain, or something. Hey, maybe she's one of those dominatrixs, like on Eurotrip, and she just-"

"You what?!"

I blink at him, trailing off in my rant. Don't ask where that came from. I had to explain to Mozzy the whole thing about Dominatrix the other night –she'd gotten into some of my parents movies; I **didn't **want to know- and I kind of had to explain it to her. Not that I knew, because I didn't! Yes, anyway...made me think of Ashley hurting Craig. Don't look at me like that...

"You asked her what?" he repeats again.

I shrug my shoulders a little, trying to put up my best 'I'm-innocent-don't-hurt-me' look. "When you two got together." He gives me a look mixed between confusion and anger, so I elaborate. "You said earlier that you were a taken man, which implies you got a girlfriend. I figured that since you and Ash are like, madly in love, it was her." I blink. "It **was **her, right?"

His eye twitches slightly. "What do **you **think?"

"Heh...oh...well...sorry." I let out a nervous laugh. "So, who are you dating?"

"No one!" he tells me.

I blink at him, suddenly very confused, and kind of angry, because I just know I'm being kept in the dark about **something**. "Craig," I begin softly, "If you're not dating anyone, then how, prey tell, can you have a girlfriend?"

His face goes blank for a few moments. He opens his mouth as if he is going to answer me, then closes it again. "I...do your work, Marco," he tells me sternly before turning around in his desk.

With a slight scowl, I tap his shoulder, trying to gain his attention. He bats my hand away. "I said do your work. You don't wanna end up living underneath a bridge, do you?" he questions me, not even bothering to turn.

Frowning at his logic, I comment, "I hardly believe that one failed crossword puzzle in Civics will somehow cause me to live underneath a bridge. And you said that-"

"Marco!" he says, still not turning. "Listen, it's simple. You fail this crossword puzzle, Langston gets upset, and makes you have detention, then your dad finds out you have gotten said detention, grounds you, and so in an act of rebellion, you sneak out, join a traveling circus, end up getting distracted in New York by the shininess of the Empire State building and miss the rest of the carnies, and, since you don't even have your GED, have to settle for walking ferrets and eating leftover corndogs while you sleep underneath the Brooklyn Bridge. For Gods sake man, do the freaking crossword!"

I grab my pencil and begin scribbling down the answers.

I hate corndogs.

-

_It's not a date, Mozz, _I tell her for the umpteenth time as we continue walking down the lightly frosted sidewalk to Spinner's house. I pull my jean jacket a little closer to me, thanking the almighty Gods of coincidence that I live close enough to my friends homes –and practically everywhere else in this town- that I can walk without having to bum a ride **or **freezing to death.

It's finally Friday, and I've been disturbingly hyper about this fact for the past...three days. I decided to just let go of the fact that Craig doesn't really have a girlfriend, or the weirdness of Jimmy and Craig dropping out of boys night; I decided to accept the fact that I would be alone –and possibly cuddled- with Spin without question. We're just gonna walk to the mall, have some wings, go to the movies, then head back to Spin's for the night. Yes, I'm spending the night, but I'm **not **kidding myself. I know nothing will happen. I mean, hell, it's not like we're...dating or something.

_Yes you are._

We're just friends.

_Who tend to kiss...a lot. _

Good friends.

_With weird jealousy rituals._

_Shut up Mozzy, I'm trying to think here!  
_

_Whatever. It's obvious that the two of your are going to...what is it you kids say now? Hook up? Yes, that was it. _

I roll my eyes.

_What? It's true. His girl left him, and he's probably kind of heartbroken right now. Added with the fact that I know he wants you, it's just a matter of time before he ends up jumping your bones! Honestly, you kids with your hormones. It's like some type of freaking ongoing orgy..._

"Mozz!" I yell, my cheeks flaming with all the talk of Spinner and jumping and orgies. What? I'm sixteen! It's not like I'm completely innocent. I can have impure thoughts about Spinner and orgies!

Not that I would, of course...

_**Right**, _Mozzy tells me, and I can hear the mirth slipping into her voice. _Your love for him is completely pure, devoid of fantasies involving the two of you and copious amounts of chocolate._

I stop, completely paralyzed in embarrassment and fear. Shocked, I don't even register the fact that I am knocking on the thick green door in front of me as I cry out, "You read my diary **again**?!"

A few chocking gurgles escape her, and at first I believe she is laughing. After a few moments, I recognize it as inconspicuous coughing. Raising an eyebrow, I look up, the blush that never really left my face intensifying tenfold as I see Spinner standing in the doorway, an odd look twisted onto his features. His bottle blond hair is slightly askew, as always, and my usual obsessive compulsive need to brush it into place is gone, because I suddenly realize how incredibly adorable it makes him look. I remove my eyes from his, realizing his gaze is making me even redder. I take in the baggy jeans he wears, the dark blue Kid Ellrick shirt and jacket. It's his usual look, but for some reason, tonight, highlighted in the soft glow of the setting sun, he looks...different somehow. Maybe it's because of last weeks revelation, you remember, the whole, oh-dear-God-I'm-in-love-with-my-best-friend, thing, or maybe not.

And suddenly I'm nervous. This is the first time we've been out, alone, since I realized that I loved him; and not just the friendship kind of love, the innocent kind, the kind of love that you say with as much heart and sincerity as any other kind of confession, minus the bleeding heartache. I mean the angsty, this is hell, wish I didn't but know I couldn't live without it kind of love. How pathetic am I? I decide to accept my feelings for him, and suddenly I can't even look him in the eye anymore! I have to brave! Deciding this, I look up, meeting his gaze.

"Dude, you keep a diary?" he questions. "That's so gay."

I'm both hurt and relived by the comment. Hurt, because yeah, I know, it means he still sees me in the light of the dirty homosexuals of the world, and I mean less to him because of that –I know I must- but the relief cancels out the pain. I guess I was worried that because I realized how I really felt about him, things would be different between us. But of course, that's not true, is it? Why would he change if he didn't know?

I do love it about him, though. He has no tact what-so-ever, he never will, and I thank God for it. It might have saved me a lot of heartache, but in the end, it's one of his most endearing qualities. He'll always tell me the truth. He'll always look me straight in the eye and tell me what he's thinking. I will always know where I stand with him –when he knows, anyway- even if I don't like it. He's a constant in my life, one of the things that will always stay the same.

_Like a puppy. _

Exactly- no! Not like a puppy. Why must you always try to dehumanize him when I'm doing my little internal monologue thingies?

_Because he is like an animal! All animal instincts. Survival and reproduction. You do fall under the latter category, of course. One of these days he's just going to-_

A heavy sigh pulls my attention away from the cat.

_The cat? Is that how you classify me now? You know, other familiars have charges who freaking respect them. Call them sensei and actually, I don't know, **listen **to them at times instead of trying to seduce every boy they know. _

Spinner is starring down at Mozzy, looking at her with confusion and a bit of bitterness. "You brought the cat."

_What the hell is up with everyone call me 'the cat'? It's bad enough you give me a stupid little kitty nickname. Mozzy, ha! Do you know if any man in the village had called me that, I would have strung them up by their-_

"Yeah!" I say, choosing to tune out the rest of Mozzy's comment. "She wanted to come. She likes horror movies."

He raises an eyebrow, and a little smile plays on his lips. "You're a weird kid, Marco." He reaches out, ruffling my hair affectionately. Mmm...Spinner warm. "See 'ya Mom! I'll be back in a few hours." Without even awaiting his mothers answer, he closes the door.

"Ready?" he asks me. I nod happily –if not a wee bit too enthusiastically- and turn with him as we begin making the twenty minute walk towards the mall.

Mozzy walks a few steps behind us, and I glance back at her, making sure she's not going to do anything. Not that there's anything she can really do, other than jump on Spin's back and try to claw him to death.

Frightened by the thought –and more frightened that I thought of the thought- I decide to strike up conversation. "Sucks that Craig and Jimmy couldn't come." I pause to look at him, then lean up, whispering almost in a conspirital tone. "You know, I don't think Craig even has a girlfriend."

A look of something akin to fear passes over his face, but it is quickly replaced with surprise. "Really? Huh, I had no idea. That's just...odd."

I furrow my brow. He knows something. I can smell it –not literally, cause that would be creepy, but it sounds cool. I will get something out of him! "Maybe," I press on lightly. "You don't think it's me, do you? I didn't do anything to...upset him, did I?"

"No," he says quickly, an almost concerned kind of...something slipping into his voice. "Of course not. Craig's just...OK, well, actually, it's the movie. He's like, completely freaked out by horror movies. He would probably piss his pants or somethin' if he went to see it with us."

_You're not going to buy that, are you? _Mozzy asks.

_Well...yeah. It makes sense, actually. _

_Dilli. I wouldn't trust anything that raklo (1) said. _

_Would you please stop calling him names in Romany? _

_I'll stop calling him names when he stops being stupid._

_You're so immature._

"Oh," I say, remembering to carry on my conversation with Spin even as I talk to Mozzy. "And Jimmy...?"

"Needed an excuse to play tonsil hockey with Hazel."

"Of course."

We both laugh a little at that. It's weird seeing him with her, but oddly, it fits...in an odd sort of way. We carry on conversation to the mall, stopping only to burst out into our very own rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody, if only to scare the passing pedestrians with our horribly off-key voices. We stop only when Mozzy sees fit to attach herself to Spinner's ankle with her teeth. Discovering that we've got another good thirty minutes or so of free time before the movie, we decided to eat now.

"...and so the dude like, freaking, takes the thing and stabs it into the other guys eye!" he says.

"Is that even humanly possible?"

Grinning –the kind of grin that I can't tell is just comedic or actually really- he says, "Think Radditch would suspend us if we tried to do it as a science project?"

Before I answer, I stop dead in my tracks, starring at the flashing red sign of the restaurant we were heading in to. Spinner looks at me, then taps my shoulder, gaining my attention.

"What's with the hold up?"

I sigh a little, glancing back at Mozzy, who is standing behind us. "What about Mozz? I don't think anyone 'll care about the movies, but in there?" I say, pointing at the Mater D who is currently showing a couple to a table.

A thoughtful look passes over his features. "We could leave her at the Pet Store."

She hisses, and I bend down to pick her up, if only to keep her from lunging at him. "I don't think so," I tell him, petting her behind the ears, trying to calm her before she tries scratching anything important.

"Why'd you bring her anyway?" he says, a bit annoyed. "It was just supposed to be you and me tonight..." he murmurs.

"What?" I ask him. I'm sure I caught the words, but they don't make sense.

He catches himself, scratching the back of his neck in an almost nervous fashion. "I said...uh...it's coast-to-coast Scooby-Doo tonight."

I raise an eyebrow, giving him an apprehensive glance. "Yeah. Um, that's uh, what I thought you said."

_Hello. Issue of 'the cat' here. I know your completely captivated by your raklo's breathtaking stupidity, but you are **not **leaving me in the pet store._

"I know Mozz. I would never leave you in there." Alone. With mice. I would never have enough money to pay all that...

"Oh, oh, light bulb!" Spinner says suddenly.

_This should be good, _Mozzy murmurs.

_Shh, _I tell her. _I wanna hear this. _

"What?" I ask him.

With a small, scary kind of smirk, he says, "Hand over your jacket."

Spinner's mind works in...mysterious ways. Sometimes when he gets an idea, well, bad things happen. And, for some odd reason, I always seem to agree with them. So when he suggested I stuff Mozzy into my jacket and zip it up all the way, I could only argue for a few moments before actually doing so, much to the detest of my cat. Finally, after a bit of begging and pleading like the pitiful sap I am, she agreed.

The Mater D barely even noticed. I mean, he glanced down, and his eyes took on a small shine of curiosity at my slightly giggling stomach. Sitting was a bit uncomfortable, but after a bit of readjusting on Mozzy's part, it was all good. In fact, I managed to kind of forget about her, and just talk with Spin. I got the details on the break-up with Paige. He's hurt, yeah, but apparently not heart-broken.

And, of course, this brings up Ellie's earlier words. He loves someone else. I'm not sure if I should pursue the subject. I want to know, don't get me wrong. Curiosity is killing me. Who is it that really holds his heart? Who is it that, deep down, truly, madly, deeply, Spinner really wants? On the other hand, I think it might completely break me if I knew. What happens when he tells me about her? About this incredibly gorgeous, funny, smart, perfect girl that he can't live without?

I'm almost grateful when he cuts me off as I begin to ask him.

"Marco, I um...well...I kind of wanted to tell you something." He almost looks serious, and if it wasn't for the twitches of nervousness passing over him, I would be scared.

"Yeah?" I ask as casually as possible.

He smiles a little, almost nervously so. "Look dude, I don't know really...how to say this. Hell, I guess I'll just come out and say it. I'm not...see, I'm not exactly who you think-"

"Oh my God!"

Both Spinner and I jump at the blood curling shriek. I turn my head wildly, searching for the source of the cry. Finally, my gaze lands on a middle-aged woman. She has to be at least fifty, I deduce as I trail my eyes over her wrinkles, which are caked with foundation at least two times to dark for her skin color. Spinner looks over at me, and I can tell that not only is he seriously frustrated, he is wondering why in the hell the fat old chick –his words...thoughts...glare, not mine- was screaming. I shrug my shoulders in response.

The Mater D comes rushing over towards her. "Ma'am," he questions worriedly, a napkin in one hand and a try of chocolate deserts in the other. "Ma'am, what happened? Are you all right?"

She turns to him, her eyes narrowed, and I get a glimpse of the deep purple she has smudged over her eyelids. "No, I am most certainly not all right!" she huffs. Her voice has a slightly British tone to it, thought it's quite obvious that she's from around here. Spinner and I both snicker. She steps up to him, looking anything **but **intimidating as she pokes the taller man in the chest. "What kind of establishment are you running here? I come to get a proper meal..."

"Not like she needs it," Spin whispers.

"And what do I find? Filth! Utter filth!" Her lips curls into a sneer as she pushes him a little. "You disgust me."

The Mater D flushes, and I can't help but feel a bit of sympathy for him. "I-I'm sorry, ma'am. Please, tell me what's happened. I will try to-"

"Try?" she questions, her voice seeming even more snotty. "My good boy, you have tried, and you have already failed! Why, just look! Look there! How could you allow such a dirty, disgusting, filthy, inhuman...animal into this place?!"

She points perfectly sculpted, ruby red finger towards us, and for a moment, I think she is pointing at **me**. For a moment, I believe that somehow she has honed her gaydar to the max, knows what I am, and Spin and I are going to be thrown into the street after I'm beaten with kitchen utensils.

It is only moments later that I realize she is indeed **not **pointing at me; she is pointing at my cat.

Blinking, I look down to see Mozzy's slick black head sticking out of the open place of my pocket. She is lapping at my French fries, meowing happily as she leans across the table, taking a bite of Spin's cheesecake.

_Mozzy! What the hell are you doing? _I scream mentally.

She turns to look at me, the bottom of her lip smeared with cheesecake, and she looks so incredibly cute that I wish I had a camera. Aww, she would make a cool calendar page!

"Look at it...it's just...it's just eating on the table! How dare you allow such a disgrace in this restaurant!"

Mozzy stops, her head slowly turning to narrow in on the woman standing in the middle of the floor.

_Oh no she didn't. _

And she pounces.

Spinner and I just stare blankly as Mozzy leaps onto the woman's shoulders, her nails out, reaching to scratch, bruise, or hurt the woman in anyway. For the first time since I got her, I realize just how graceful she really is. They way her body moves, the way she has such feline grace...I have a beautiful, mini-killing machine for a house pet.

Should I be proud of this?

"Oh! Get it off of me! Get it off of me!"

_You wanna fight me, bitch? Bring it on!_

"Sir," the Mater D says turning to me, a pleading expression on his face. your...animal!"

_Animal? You want a piece of me too, Nancy boy?!_

Spinner nearly falls out of his seat laughing when she begins clawing at the Mater D's perfectly slicked down blond hair.

How do I get myself into these situations?

-

"I'll take two tickets for Blood and Guts, please."

"That will be fourteen dollars. Thank you, sir, enjoy your movie."

"Spin," I tell him as he comes back over to me, tearing off a ticket and handing it to me. I take it, tucking it underneath Mozzy's body, "I would have paid for my own."

He grins a little, then shrugs his shoulders. "You paid for dinner, dude. I pick up the movie. No big."

I bite my lip a bit, trying not to sound pushy. "Yeah but...at least let me pay you back?" I suggest, tugging Mozzy more securely underneath my body. We got thrown out of the restaurant, and we're never allowed back again...ever. I gave Mozz a scolding, but really, how could I be angry? I don't think the woman deserved to be attacked, but still...she still had cheesecake all over her. I dare anyone to attempt to be forceful when they have a cute little black kitty with cake smeared all over her.

With a sigh, he opens the door, waiting for me to begin walking in before following. He leans in, and I feel his breath, still smelling faintly of Mountain Dew, against my cheek.

"I'll find a way for you to pay me back."

I freeze completely, looking up to see him smirking lightly, then all out laughing at the expression I have on his face. A small breath escapes me, one I didn't know I'd been holding. He was joking. Ha ha.

...I wish he didn't have to sound so...**suggestive **whilst joking.

I let Mozzy drop onto the floor and allow her to walk behind us. Was he...flirting with me? I could have sworn he was...but no. It was just a joke. An innocent, flirt-like joke.

We settle into the third row of the movie theater. We wait a while, Mozzy curling into my lap, talk, and try to guess the old songs that blast from the speakers until the lights dim and the movie starts. The credits begin rolling, and for a moment, I wonder just why in the hell Angelina is doing such a cheesy horror flick? Then again, I have to wonder just why in the hell I'm watching such a cheesy horror flick. Peering underneath my dark hair, I see Spinner's eyes practically glued to the screen. A little smile is working his lips upwards.

Oh yeah...that's why.

It's around thirty minutes into the film, and I have to admit, it's not as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it's pretty good. It has a plot; shocking, I know. There's been drama, angst, comedy, horror, blood...not total gore, though. I think Spin's a little disappointed. I watch the screen, engrossed as Angelina wanders through the woods, her katana gripped tightly, light eyes darting around, looking for the killer, who I swear is her twin, Anthony, but...

Eep! I nearly jump out of my seat in surprise and sudden fear when I see a greenish figure blur past the screen. Zombie! I totally just saw a zombie! What the...that has nothing to do with the plot!

I hear soft chuckling, almost giggling, to my right, and turn my head, only to see Spinner staring at me with a look of utter amusement on his face. I pout a little, resisting the urge to stick out my tongue. He's silently mocking me for my little outburst. I turn my attention back to the screen, deciding that I'll just ignore him. Only, as I do, I see an entire zombie of drooling greenish people, arms outstretched and screaming for Angelina to come to them. She shoots her gun, and I see the small Italian zombies head come off.

_Kind of ironic, eh Rom Baro? _Mozzy questions.

Apparently, Spinner notices my distress. He places his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. For a second, I just freeze, unsure of what he's doing.

"I'll tell you when the zombies are gone," he informs me.

I glance up at him, and he gives me a small smile, which puts me completely at ease. I bury my face into the side of his shoulder, wincing as the sound of screams and curses and what I know must be blood spattering reaches my ears. I am thankful for Spinner's warmth, and for his thoughtfulness. I love having his arm around me, being so close to him like this; it's just...perfect.

_Aw, you two are so sweet, _Mozzy comments. _I think I'll go vomit now._

_You're just jealous._

_Yes, I'm burning with jealousy. I really want Spinner all to myself. One day, when your not looking, I'm going to take one of your potions and have my kitteny way with him._

The way she says it, sarcastically yet with the hint of mirth, I can't help but giggle into Spinner's shoulder. I think he takes it as a whimper of fear, because he pulls me closer. And, hey, I'm not complaining. Maybe it's because he forget about me, or he's completely engrossed in the movie –cough Angelina- or the zombies really are still there, but he never releases his hold on me. And, of course, I never pull away.

It is only another half-hour later, when Spinner, Mozzy and I are walking out the movie theater, Spin blabbing on about how awful the special effects were and how stupid the entire movie was and how he wonders how much it will cost when it comes out on DVD, that I realize exactly how sad it was that I had to use the fact that I am deathly afraid of zombies –why do I go to so many damn zombie movies?- to get closer to him. I was practically snuggled up against him during the entire movie. Not that I found it a bad experience, or anything, but I feel kind of cheap now. Like, I know it meant something to me, but to him, he was just dealing with his fradey cat friend glomping him for thirty minutes. I frown a little, unable to hold back a sigh. He stops talking, then raises an eyebrow, giving me a slightly questioning look.

Forcing a yawn, I raise my hands above my head, stretching. "Kind of tired," I mumble.

"Tired?" he asks incredulously. He reaches down, grabbing my arm gently and then rolling up the sleeve to see my watch. "But it's only...seven, dude. You can't be tired **yet**. Boys night hasn't even started."

I look up into his face, and though he looks disappointed, I can't help but catch a little glint in his eyes. Kind of like he's...anxious for something. Confused, I stare at him a bit longer. Then suddenly our conversation at the restaurant comes back to mind. He seemed to have something really important to tell me. I wonder...I wonder if it has anything to do with the girl he has supposedly 'given his heart to'. Suddenly my stomach turns.

_Are you all right, Rom Baro? You look a little pale, _Mozzy says.

I look down at her, giving a soft smile. I bend down to my knees, patting the top of her head until she nuzzles my hand. "You be a good girl, Mozz," I tell her before standing up. I then look up at Spinner, whose facial expression hasn't changed. "I gotta go wash my hands. Watch the cat for me, please?"

He nods, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What do you have to wash your hands for?"

"Germs," I tell him matter-of-factly. "We were just in the movies. I had my hands all over the seats..."

_And Spinner. _

_Shut up Mozzy._

"...and stuff like that. Who knows what's been on there. Just give me a sec."

Shrugging his shoulders, he mumbles a whatever, and I turn, walking towards the bathroom. Breathe Marco, breathe. I knew this was coming. I knew, way back in my mind, when Ellie told me about she and Paige, that this was coming. Spinner apparently wanted someone else. As much as he felt for Paige, he had deeper feelings for another girl. It was stupid of me to think that he wasn't going to tell me one of these days. To pretend that he could just be single forever and stay with me. To think he might actually ever...

I shake my head as I move to the sink, flipping on the faucet. Of course he'll never want **me**. I know that. He'll only ever see me as a friend. One of these days, I really am going to find a way to accept that. It kind of hurts, though, knowing how much I really care for him, and the only thing that I can be sure of more than the fact that I love him, is that he'll never love me back.

Listen to me. I'm completely depressing myself. I can't think about this, not now, not when he's just outside. Right now, he's the one who needs a friend. I mean, his girlfriend just broke up with him for another girl, who happens to be my ex-girlfriend. It's like, the Ex Factor, or something. Both of our ex's got together...how ironic would it be if we did? Not that it'll ever happen, or anything...

Supportive friend, Marco! Not Angst Boy with a man crush. Spin needs me to be there for him, to lend him a shoulder and a helping hand. If ever he decides he wants to talk anymore about Paige, or anything, then I'm gonna have to suck it up and put him first. That's what people who are in love do. They take care of those people, and they sacrifice those people. I suppose I'm gonna have to get used to that.

"Well, well, look what we have here!" says a mocking voice from behind me.

I look up in the mirror, mentally wincing when I see the three images behind me. Slash, Danny, and Corbin. A couple of bullies from grade 11 who get a kick out of making us younger kids suffer. The only kids I think they don't pick on are Spinner, because of his pre-bully rep, and Liberty, because I think their mostly just afraid she'll like, attack them with a protractor, or something.

"It's Degrassi's own resident fag."

I ground the back of my teeth, but decide to ignore them. There's still a handful of kids who have not let the whole Spinner and I kissing thing go, and are kind of never going to let it go. Like the fan girls, though I think I prefer cake and brownies over getting sneered at and beat up. Which is probably what's going to happen if I don't get out of here, quickly.

Turning the faucet off, I turn to leave, but am stopped when Danny and Corbin cut me off, leaning against the door. They both smirk at me, looking a lot like punk-rock-bouncers in their leather jackets and slicked down hair. Trying to show at least a minor amount of backbone, I walk up to them, looking them in the eye for as long as I can manage before lowering my gaze to the doorknob.

"Could you move?" I question, thankful my voice isn't shaking. I've seen those looks, I know this type of guy. It's the same type that I ran into that night when I was bashed. If I don't get out of here...it may be a public place but...there aren't any cops this time. And there are three of them, I can't possibly use my magic to fight them. "You're kind of in the way."

They both laugh, and Slash comes up behind me, throwing an arm around my shoulder. He pulls me to him, even as I try to push him away. "Such a polite little faggot," he says, chuckling, before his light smirk turns into a sneer. He curls his hand into my hair and pushes me. I let out a small grunt of pain as my shoulder blade collides with the hand dryer, accidentally turning on the hot air.

The whole situation seems kind of surreal. The sudden, almost unbearable heat that reaches my skin through the jacket, the way Slash stalks closer to me, his shoulder length brown hair covering his tanned, not enough to hide dark brown eyes which seem to be flashing with way too much enjoyment at the small whimper that escapes me. Spinner and Mozzy are just outside the door, and if I scream, they could probably hear me. They could come and rescue me. That is, if they could push Danny and Corbin –who are both fairly large fellows- away from the door, which at the moment I'm doubting they could. It doesn't matter now, anyway. I don't think my voice is working. Even if it was, Slash has covered it with a large hand. I blink with the realization, shaken that I can't even recall when he got this close. His fingers grasp my jaw in an almost bruising kind of grip and I try to bite the palm of his hand, but to no avail.

I lift my leg, deciding that maybe I can kick him and then make a run for the door. He dodges and then, in order to stop me from trying the same move again, slides his knee between my legs. They all laugh.

"You look scared, Del Rossi," he tells me in a mockingly calm voice. I can smell the beer on his breath, mixed in with caramel. "Doesn't he look scared, boys?"

Corbin grins, elbowing Danny in the arm. "Yeah," he calls back. "He kinda does. Maybe it's just because you ain't as pretty as Spinner."

A joking offended look passes over his face, and he turns to me, with eyes that have a look I **really **don't want to see right now. "That right?" he questions, tilting his head, his chestnut mane swaying as he does. "I'm not prettier than Mason? Well, now, that just hurts my feelings." He places his hand, the one not over my mouth, over his chest. "Seriously little man, I've got low self-esteem."

I look over to see Corbin and Danny now locking the door –why the hell are there locks in public bathrooms, anyway?!- and looking a bit more serious. "You should have him make it up to you," Danny murmurs.

"What an excellent suggestion, Daniel," Slash says. Then he turns back to me, leaning in even more, pressing his leg closer into mine. "What about it, Del Rossi? Got any tricks you can show us that will make me feel better? Anything in particular you do for Mason you can do for me, somethin' that'll make my frown turn upside down?" He leers at me, and the other two laugh, hard.

I feel sick.

I nod a little, as much as I can, and he moves his hand away from my mouth, slowly, so his fingers brush against my lips –I resist the urge to shudder, hopefully in disgust- until his hand settles on my neck. Meeting his gaze, I try to keep my features, and my voice, as emotionless as possible. I don't know exactly what their going to do to me –I know it'll involve pain, somehow- but I'm not just going to take it. If those creeps who bashed me and Slade taught me anything, it's to not let anyone scare you, no matter how hard you know their gonna hit you.

"Go to hell," I hiss, sounding much more angry and afraid then I thought I was. His glare hardens, and he looks ready to murder; this is when I realize I should take this opportunity to scream.

Seems my voice decided to stop working again.

Damn.

"Kick his ass, man," Corbin grins from the doorway.

Slash nods to them, then pulls his fist back, hitting me square in the stomach. The breath is completely knocked out of me and my hands go around my torso. He steps away, and I realize the weight I had been leaning against him, because suddenly I fall to my knees. I take in deep breaths, trying to be calm. They all chuckle again, and I peer up through my bangs, seeing Slash grinning down at me.

"Hmm..." he murmurs, as if thinking. "On your knees...I think I like you better in this position, Del Rossi." His hand begins moving down, and I am completely frozen. I can't tell if whether his hand is moving down to his zipper –oh please God no- or to slap me.

Before he can do anything, there is a loud knocking on the door; well, more like banging, as if someone is throwing their entire body weight against it. Both Danny and Corbin exchange apprehensive glances, while Slash just looks seriously pissed. Ha ha to him.

"Marco?!" Spinner's voice yells from the other side of the door. Oh, thank you Lord, I'm saved! Spinner...my knight in shiny armor. "Are you in there?"

I open my mouth to yell, but find that I can't say anything. The only thing I can do is stare up at him.

"It's Mason," Corbin hisses.

Slash looks at me, then makes a small growling noise underneath his breath. "Open it. We're getting out of here."

Corbin looks down, motioning towards me. "What about the faggot?" he asks.

Glancing down at me, he sneers before answering, "Forget about him. It was just a bit of fun, anyway." Danny and Corbin nod, then begin unlocking the door. Slash quickly bends down, his hand reaching for my hair. He pulls me up into a standing position. He pats my shoulder, and I shudder a little. "Next time I find you, I'm expecting my payback."

He lets me go, then smiles, turning to face Spinner, who is standing in the doorway. He takes in the scene, and, contrary to popular belief he is not **that **slow, and I can see understanding pass over his features.

"Get the **fuck **away from him," he hisses.

I take a few steps back from Slash, never taking my eyes off of him. After exchanging apprehensive looks, Corbin and Danny shuffle past him. Without a word, Slash begins walking out, giving Spinner a distasteful look. In the blink of an eye, his hand lashes out, grabbing Slash's leather clad arm. I wince as he slams the slightly taller boy into the tiled wall. With slighlty blurry eyes, I watch as Spin punches him in the jaw, then wraps his hand around his throat, squeezing only slighlty.

Leaning in, he begins speaking, his words frighteningly, un-Spinnery like calm. "If I see you around again, I swear to God I'll kill you."

My breath catches in my throat.

I think he's serious.

He releases him, and Slash speeds away from the room. Spinner turns towards me, and the anger on his face scares me. It's possibly ten-times the rage I saw when he found out about Slade. The thing is, I think that some of it is directed at me.

"You were taking a long time," he says. "I think Mozzy was getting worried about you. I came to the door, and it was locked." I lower my eyes from his face, because I don't think I can take the look of disappointment I see in his gaze. We both stand here, in the middle of the mall bathroom for at least five minutes of incredibly awkward, tense silence. When I finally gain the courage to look back at him, he is only a foot in front of me. "You could have screamed for me," he says, almost softly. "Did you...I would have come."

I blink at him, then swallow a bit as I step closer to him. He stares at me, our eyes completely locked. "I know, Spin. I know you would have." Does he think that I doubted he would help me?

"One of these days, some of these random people that keep attacking you are going to kill you," he informs me, in a very mater-of-fact tone. Before I can say anything, his arms are around me, and I'm pulled flush against him. Without even thinking, I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him back. "Don't you ever do that again, okay? I'm sick of it. I'm fucking sick, Marco! You just let them hurt you, over, and over, and **over **again, and I'm tired of it. So just...stop...all right? Just...if you ever need help, need anyone...I'm here." His voice is shaking, and if I didn't know any better, I would have thought that he was crying.

"I'm sorry," I mumble into the fabric of his shirt. "I thought I could handle it. I didn't want to..." I trail off.

"Didn't want to what?" he questions. "Worry me? Hell, dude, I thought you'd like, drowned in the toilet or something." His arms tighten around me, and for the first time in like, forever, I feel safe. Standing here, my stomach still pounding like crazy, my best friends arms wrapped around me so tightly that it's cutting off my circulation, I know I'm safe. I know Spinner will keep me safe. Always.

He pulls back, a little, and reluctantly I do as well. I look up at him, surprised to see what looks like wetness gathering in the tear ducts of his eyes. The usually clear, dark eyes are glassy now, with a little bit of a red tint. I reach up, wiping my thumb over where a would-have-been-tear might have fallen. His skin is really soft, and really warm, and I'm reluctant to bring my hand back down to my side. I do, eventually, then stand there for a few moments, awkwardly awaiting him to do something.

"Where's Mozz?" I ask him, trying to pull ourselves from this very...odd moment.

He sighs a little, then slings his arm around me, guiding me out of the bathroom. "Out here, waiting," he informs me.

"Good."

We walk outside, and there she is, sitting atop the pinball machine, watching in fascination as the silver ball is tossed back and forth. I allow a small, tired smile to lift my lips.

"Dude," he whispers. "Your cat is seriously freaky."

"Dude," I whisper back with a smile. "You have no idea."

He nods a little, then looks at the doors. "Ready to go home?" he asks.

I nod enthusiastically. He smiles, then pats my shoulder. "All right," he says, rubbing his hands together. "Time to get the cat."

I watch him, feeling ridiculously happy, and yet at the same time insanely afraid and depressed as he runs around the lobby, attempting to catch the speeding black cat, that is mercilessly taunting him in Romany. That's my knight, all right. My Spinner.

Mine?

I shake the word from my head as Spinner finally manages to grab hold of Mozzy. She hisses at him a little before settling down in his arms. He looks at me, a rather proud grin on his features as he pats her on the head. I give him a tired smile as he walks back over to me, passing her into my grasp. I take her, nuzzling her neck a little, and although I'm sure it's against her will, she purrs in delight.

"Come on," he says, beginning to head for the door. "Let's get home."

"Can we make hot chocolate?" I ask him hopefully.

He nods his head. "Course. With the little marshmallows, too."

"You're the greatest Spin."

"I know."

-

About half way back to his house, it begins to rain. Not just a light drizzle, it's practically like a waterfall. In a sad attempt to get home dry, we both take off running, ignoring the pounding rain, but in the end, we are both completely soaked. Spinner unlocks the door as quickly as possible, and we rush inside. Mozzy jumps out of my arms and announces she is going to go pass out in front of the TV. I watch her go into the living room with a little smile on my lips. The lights are all on, but no one is insight. I tilt my head, peering into the living room and then into the kitchen. Strange...

"I guess everyone went to sleep," I murmur, rubbing my freezing arms.

He pauses for a moment, then looks down at the carpet, before finally meeting my gaze. "I uh...I didn't tell you?" he asks, his voice having an odd sort of nervous shake to it. I raise an eyebrow at him, then shake my head. Taking in a breath, he continues, "Oh, sorry. Guess I just forgot. My mom took Kendra shopping in Beauport. No one's really...home."

"Oh," I murmur, shrugging my shoulder before giving him a smile. "Too bad you don't have a girlfriend this weekend," I try to joke, before realizing how utterly tactless that was of me. "Sorry, Spin, I didn't-"

He raises his hand, stopping me from speaking. "No problem, dude." He looks at me, then places his hand on my forehead. Even after being stuck in the freezing rain, his skin is warm and I absently lean into the touch. "I gotta get you out of the clothes." I blink, then pull away from his hand, feeling a blush on my cheeks. He laughs –nervously?- before quickly adding, "And into something dry. You're gonna get a cold or something..."

I nod to him and he turns. I follow behind him towards his room. He opens the door, and I go inside, standing awkwardly near the end of the bed as I watch him begin pulling out some dry clothes from his dresser. He tosses me a pair of draw string pants and some boxers, which are probably a few sizes too big for me, but I take them gratefully. As he turns to me, I see a pile of clothes in his own arms as well.

He motions to the door with his head. "I'll go change out there," he tells me.

I nod. "Where do you want me to put these?" I ask, making a small gesture to the soaking clothes I'm wearing. He knits his eyebrows, as if trying to think of a place, and I force my gaze to stay on his face instead of drifting down to study the way his shirt clings to his chest. Bad Marco!

"Wherever," he answers, shrugging, then leaves the room.

As soon as the door shuts, I quickly peel off my wet clothing, letting them pool to the floor. I slide into the happy face boxers –I can only hope Paige got these for him- and pants. I tug on the strings, trying to force the pants to fit around my practically non-existent torso. Maybe I should start working out, or something. Get some muscles. Like Arnold! I shall be a girly man no more.

I scoop it all up in my arms and walk over to his dresser, depositing them on top of it. Then I head back to the bed, prepared to throw on the shirt, when I realize he forgot to give me one. Shivering, I reach down and grab a small sheet, wrapping it around my shoulders. I suppose I should go grab a shirt, or something, but oddly, I feel like standing around my best friends room half-naked and freezing to death. I blink. Maybe it's a witch thing...

The door is pushed open, allowing the hall light to fill the room. He steps in, his light hair still matted to his face, now dressed some baggy black pants and a white shirt. In his arms, he carries a sleeping bag and some more comforters. With a sudden sinking feeling, I remember that we're not sleeping in the same bed. Well, duh! I should have known this. I mean, geeze...what was I expecting? He walks up to me and drops them down on the floor before running a hand through his hair, slicking it back. Spin stares at me for a while, then blinks suddenly, a little color coming onto his cheeks. I wonder why he is blushing before remembering that, hey, don't have a shirt on here. I laugh a little as I pull the sheet around me tighter.

"Sorry," he says, reaching out to rub my shoulders a bit. I sigh a bit at the warmth the friction brings to my arms. "Guess I forgot to grab you one."

"S'kay."

He stops for a moment, then leans down, taking in a deep breath of sheet. He pulls back and wraps his left hand around it, beginning to pull it off my shoulders. "I wouldn't use this one, dude. Kendra spilt nail polish crap all over it, or something. One night curled up in this and you'd be as high as a kite."

I laugh a bit as he takes the sheet and throws it off into the corner. At first, I expect him to turn around and retrieve me a shirt, but he doesn't. Instead, he resumes his earlier motions, placing those warm, slightly calloused hands on my arms, rubbing up and down. I lower my face, hoping that he doesn't notice my face on fire. What is he **doing**? Not that I'm complaining, or anything. It's probably just innocent. I doubt he's even thinking of what this is doing to me. He's just trying to help out a friend. This...what I'm feeling...it hasn't even crossed his mind. I feel his right hand slide from my arm to my back, rubbing my shoulder blade. A feeling of warmth spreads from every place his skin has made contact with mind through my limbs, settling in the pit of my stomach, that's suddenly full of knots and butterflies and little tingles that probably aren't good to feel, at least not in this situation. I realize suddenly how close he is; I can smell his scent perfect, even feel a rain drop fall from his bangs onto my cheek.

His hands become quicker, trying to help me keep in as much heat as possible, and I really think he should stop doing this now. Before I have a time to stop myself, a small kind of groan escapes my lips. I pray to God that he didn't hear it, but as his movements stop, I know he did. Timidly, I raise my hand to look up at him, expecting an angered, disgusted look to be on his features. I can barely read his eyes, which makes me incredibly nervous. Usually he's a pretty readable person.

Those warm, loving hands suddenly leave my body as he takes a step back. "Dude, did you just...purr?"

My head snaps up and I blink at him, my mouth opening and closing at sixty miles per second. "W-what?" I stutter.

"You did! You freaking purred," he says, chuckling.

I shake my head furiously in protest. "No...I most certainly did not just purr! You...you were h-hearing things."

For some reason, I don't think my words reach him as he continues laughing hysterically. "Aw," he says, his eyes still swimming with mirth as he reaches out to pinch my cheek. "I think someone's been spending a bit too much time with their kitty."

Sticking my tongue out at him, I cross my arms over my bare chest. "I was not!" I declare once again. "Besides, you were the one who was...pressing flesh!"

Still chuckling, he closes the distance between us. "I couldn't help it," he says, and if he wasn't grinning so much, I would think he was serious. "You're just so dead sexy all wet and shirtless."

My face must be blood red at the moment. He's joking, but Mozzy help me if I don't wish he were being honest. He is still laughing, and I glare at him until he calms down. After he does, he takes in a deep breath, and we both just stand here, staring at each other. My breathing becomes a little quicker, and I don't really know why. It's not like I haven't stood alone with Spinner in his room before. No big new surprises there. Maybe it's just because he's suddenly so close, only inches away from my face. H-hey...when did that happen? And why is he getting closer? He's leaning in, but as I look into his eyes, he appears to be thoroughly confused. What...? Unless, of course, it's not him that's getting closer.

My suspicions are confirmed when my lips press against his very softly, and I realize that it was me, not him, who had been leaning in. Oh God, what am I doing?! I'm kissing Spinner. I. Am. Kissing. Spinner. And I really have to stop. Before even a full second passes I pull back. As I stare up into his face, I see once again that he is expressionless. That must mean he's very, very angry. He's probably going to strangle me for that, I just know it.

"Oh, my...oh my God Spinner..." I mutter apologetically as I begin stepping away from him. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to. I just...I mean I wasn't thinking, Spin. I um...it just happened and...uh...well I..." I falter, tripping over my words as I realize there is nothing to say. I'm not going stand here and scream out, 'I'm sorry Spinner, but I love you!' because then he would probably never speak to me again. Maybe, if I leave right now, he'll have the weekend to recover, and won't even be angry with me on Monday.

Deciding that is probably the best plan of action, I begin to run forward, prepared to jet out of the room, stopping only to grab Mozzy, then continue to run home. It's not as if I haven't run all the way to my house barefoot before. And, if all goes well –which it of course won't- I can do so without slipping and breaking my neck or catching pneumonia. I am nearly to the door when I suddenly feel strong fingers wrapping around my wrist, digging into my skin a little as I am suddenly pulled backwards. I attempt to slip my wrist from Spin's grip –cause it obviously has to be him- but he only holds on tighter. Suddenly I find myself pressed flush against his chest. I begin murmuring rapid apologies into his shirt, my mind racing as to why in the hell he just isn't letting me run away. Taking in a deep breath, I look up into his face, praying that maybe the look of apology and shame will get to him and he'll release me.

He doesn't.

"Spinner, I-"

I am cut off when he crushes his mouth to mine, his tongue plunging past my lips before I even have a chance to blink. One hand, the one that currently does not have the iron grip on my wrist, slides behind my head, curling into my hair before he tugs my head down, using the new position to his advantage as his lips begin moving more quickly, more harshly over mine. Another moan escapes my mouth and my hand clutches a fistful of fabric as I kiss back, trying desperately to keep up with his furious pace. His lips are soft and warm, just like I remember, with the lingering taste of Mountain Dew. His hand releases my wrist and slides down, brushing against the hem of the pants before settling on the small of my back. I press myself against him even more, if it's at all possible, and using the little courage and experience I have, suck on his bottom lip before pressing my tongue into his mouth. He groans, loudly, and suddenly pulls away.

At first, I think he did so because he was angry. Angry because he just realized he was kissing his best friend, who just so happened to be a guy. But as I look up into his eyes and notice the happy, confused, slightly dazed expression, I can't help but get the feeling he enjoyed that as much as I did. His hand slides slowly up my back, leaving goose bumps on my skin as before he reaches my cheek. His fingertips brush over my hair as I rest my face against his palm, allowing my eyes to flutter closed at the pleasure of the contact. Without thinking, I lean forward, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of his neck.

I have no idea what's going on. One moment we're joking around, and the next I kiss him, think I'm going to be murdered, and then we're...this. I blink at him, a little dazed smile on my face when he places a hand on my chest and pushes me. I hit the bed in a kid of sitting position. Never breaking eye contact with him, I begin scooting back until my back hits the headboard. He moves onto the bed as well, his body stretched out over mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off of him. Suddenly Spinner is warmth, he is air, and my hands decided that they just have to touch him before I die. I trace his jaw line with one hand, threading my fingers through his soft hair with the other. I move my hand over his face, then trail feather light touches down his neck. My hands slides down his chest and I wrap my fingertips around the bottom of his shirt, but I'm too afraid to do anything else. His eyes seem to darken, and he nods his head, soothing my fears. Slipping my hand underneath his shirt, I press it to his chest, moving slightly. My earlier shyness comes back, and I realize I can do nothing else. He seems perfectly fine with this as he leans back down, capturing my lips to share another heated, but more gentle, kiss.

Minutes, hours, days pass and we are still laying here, lips and bodies intertwined. I think he must taste like wine, because my head is swimming, and I can't seem to stop it. Spinner lifts up for a moment, but barely gives me time to catch my breath when his mouth descends on my neck. Do people have a fetish for my neck? I swear, it's like some sort of conspiracy. I tense for a moment, just waiting for him to scrape his teeth against my skin, before finally biting down. A gasp escapes me when he finally does. Ha, knew it.

He kisses up to my ear, before his tongue snakes out, tracing out my earlobe. Groaning, I arch up, wrapping one leg around his waist to pull him down against me. We both moan together at the contact. This, this must be what Heaven is like. Heaven and Hell and Purgatory all rolled into one. Spinner runs his hand up and down my chest, stopping to trace the hem of my pants. He slips his index finger underneath, lightly rubbing the skin there as he gives me a questioning glance.

"Marco," he breaths softly. "Do you want me to...?"

He leaves it hanging in the air, and I pause, not quite sure what to say. I want this, Gods I do. I love him, and I want him, I know that. I'm more sure of that than anything. But what about him? Is all of this just some lust crush? Experimenting? A way to work off some steam from he and Paige's break up? I love him, I do, and I would do anything for him, but if he's just going to use me...I couldn't do it. I don't think my heart could take it if I gave this to him and he didn't really love me.

On the other hand, that look he is giving me is the closest thing to loving I have ever seen. Maybe I was wrong before. Maybe it has been me all this time. Maybe the other person Spin gave his heart to was me. Doubtful, but after what just happened, I don't think it's all together impossible.

I think I am much to confused to answer him, but I've made my decision anyway.

"Spinner, I-"

Ring.

"I want to-"

Ring.

"You're my-"

Ring!

Huffing angrily under his breath, Spinner pushes himself off the bed. "It's my mom," he says, as he picks up the cell phone from his desk. "I've gotta take it."

I nod to him, taking in a few deep breaths myself before I can speak again. "Yeah. I'll uh...I'll watch the fort."

Smiling at me, he rushes forward, dropping a kiss on my forehead before flipping the phone out. "Mom? Oh, hey Kendra. What? No!" He continues speaking into the phone as he heads out of the room.

I lay unmoving for a few minutes, just taking in the whole situation. There is a chance that Spin might return my feelings. I think I must be the happiest gay Italian kid in the world right now, or at least in Canada. I begin to sit up, wrapping my arms around myself for warmth. Without his prescience, it's suddenly very cold. I stand up and move to the dresser, pulling it open to look for a shirt. I don't think tonight is really the night. Maybe after we talk, or something. I want to be sure that he feels for me, and this just isn't some kind of rebound or one night thing. I place my hand inside the drawer, feeling around for a shirt that might be slightly my size. My mind races as I do this, remembering the smile on his face and the way he looked at me only moments ago.

Apparently, I am so caught up in my thoughts, I lose my concentration. I squeak in pain as my finger hits something sharp. Quickly, I pull my hand up, squinting my eyes as I see a huge drop of crimson on my fingertip. Pouting, I suck on it a little –what? It works, all right- before pulling the drawer open more. I probably just cut myself on one of Spin's porno magazines –you **know **he has them- or something like that. I look inside for a moment, no sign of Playboy –or Playgirl- anywhere. In the corner of my eye, I see something in the back of the drawer, shining a bit in the dim light of the room. Curious, I reach for it, wrapping my hands around the end of whatever it is before I pull it out. When I finally have it, I hold it up to the hall light, examining it.

It's a dagger. About nine inches long, three or four inches white, with a silver hilt in the shape of a dragons head.

Oh, God.

---

Marco: This chapter was incredibly long because nothing could be cut out, and it would have been just weird as two chapters.

Spinner: Review if you liked the fact that I was close to defiling Marco! And also review if you don't like being left at cliffys and want her to update!


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Three Seconds Notice

Disclaimer: I do not own any Degrassi ideas and or characters, and am only borrowing them for my sick and twisted amusement. I'll give 'em back...eventually.

Author's Notes: Oh, I haven't updated in a long time, have I? Sorry! I have excuses though! We had our Christmas Concert, and well, Christmas at school, and I got distracted by that. And I now have the _new _Vanessa Carlton cd. Gawd, it's so freaking awesome! You all have to go by it! Vanessa Carlton is the shiznite and she's so cool! –cough- OK...well...um...review responses!

JessyG: Thank you for the...um...what's the word I'm looking for? Kind yet sadistic review? Yeah, that's it. –smiles-

Rowenna7: See, I'm updating! As to your comment about how long it's taken them to get together. This is how I work. As long as it takes for them to get together, the same amount of time the couple has to **be **together. Get ready for lots of kisses...

Endbringer: Thanks for reviewing! As for your suggestion, it is nice, but don't worry. I have this whole thing plotted out, and I have everything in like, divisions. There's gonna be an equal amount of witchcraft as everything else. Make sense? Don't worry, we're getting there.

drew's baby: Thanks for reviewing! I'm writing more!

Inuko Metallium: Ellie/Paige slash makes me happy. Go read 'Pretty Girl' if it makes you happy to. I almost bought my friend a Gravitation manga for x-mas, but I'm poor and have no money. Glad you're liking the story!

Fucted Up Kid: Spinner does love Marco, and Marco does love Spinner, as we all be reminded five hundred times in this chapter. –cough- Thank you for reviewing! I hope your own Sparco ficlet is coming along well!

FreakManNinja: Semi-soft porn? I just called it shameless smut, but you're phrase makes it sound more classy. –throws tickle-me-Marco, jump-me-Spinner, and a smart-ass-Mozzy plush- Enjoy! And thank you for the review!

Ash: I'm glad you like this story! Well, you must really like it since your review was in ALL capital letters! I have started my vampire fic. You can click on my author name go to my profile and it'll be listed under the stories I've written. I hope you enjoy that, as well. Thank you so much for reviewing!

prinny: I think you just might like this story. –grins- Thanks for the kind, spazztastic review!

BlackOwl892006: Cliffy's are fun. I suggest you get used to them. Heh. I see where a friend of yours reviewed too. Awesome! Thank you for the support!

Bridget N: Maybe...maybe. You'll just have to read this chapter to figure it out! –winks-

The Dude: You are officially pimp, because you said you liked AFI. –cough- Thanks a lot for the great review. I hope you like this chapter too!

Cyanide Anytime: My teacher said long is good the other day. We all got very bad mental images. But I'm glad you liked the last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one as well.

almost-never: You are welcome! It's fun to make Spinner and Marco do inappropriate things together, and one day I will write a story where it is them doing just that. Unfortunatly plot stuck it's dirty little head into my mind and worked itself into this story. Thanks for the review!

fox eye: He was playing gold fish with the cat because Spinner's weird like that. It doesn't have anything to do with anything. I'm glad you liked the chpater and thanks for reviewing!

Sloane Miette: Well, I hope your headache is better, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!

Mel16: Yeah, Queen rules. Thank you for the kind compliment and the awesome reviews!

Squrlie Jack: See, I'm updating! Don't be upset; be glad!

TenageMutantNinjaDuckies: Who **hasn't **been updating even more than I have. –coughs- I didn't say anything! The last chapter, and another chapter which I can't remember at the moment, were Marco reflected, thus they were in past tense. Thanks for reviewing!

My Chemical Lust: -twitch- I'm not okay! –giggles- Thank you so much for reviewing!

RiseAgainPhoenix: I want to set Marco up with some random dude just so I can see Spinner beat said random dude up and make out with Marco, because I'm cool like that. I'm happy you liked the chapter! Thank you for reviewing!

anjel919: Wouldn't **you **like to know what Spinner is doing with a dagger in his drawer? Well, okay, you will know in a bit if you read this chapter. I'm very pleased I've made people addicted. –pats self on back- Glad you liked the chapter and hope you like this one too.

KinseySix: -laughs evily- This is what you get for not updating 'Pretty Girl' in forever! Bwuhahaha. Don't worry! There will be some hot wild lip ring emo sex for the Sparco, only minus the lip ring and institute a tounge ring, because I noticed that Spinner had one. I like weapons. I think wepaons are very sexy. You can't kill Kendra. She likes **anime**! Just be patient! I promise in –holds out hands- the next chapter there will be...things... Lot's of them. –winks-

Enigmus: I take it you enjoyed that chapter? Well, I'm sure you'll like this one too! I hope, anyway.

Dreamer'sWasteland: Is Spinner the vampy dream dude? I don't know. You'll just have to read to find out! Thanks for the review!

Holy donkey ears I got a lot of reviews! I have 176! You guys rock so many socks even people in Africa have cold feet! Here is the next chapter, because you all deserve it!

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**Chapter Sixteen: Three Seconds Notice**

No.

This can't...

This isn't right.

This isn't happening.

I'm dreaming, I know I must be.

I...he...

**No**.

I stare down at the dagger, my breathing rapid as I try to take in the image. This can't be the same one. It just **can't **be. It must be some sort of replica, or something. As far as I know, they probably sell daggers exactly like this at Wal-Mart or the costume shop downtown. He could have gotten it because he thought it looked cool, or has some odd infatuation with dragons he's never told anyone about, or is planning to use it for a project or Halloween next year. Maybe it's not even his. It could be Kendra's. She could be in some sort of gang, and must have this knife for protection, or else rival gangs will come and kill her. He's probably just hiding it right now so their mom won't find it, or just in case some of the evil rival gangs come he'll have a way to defend himself. According to some of the movies I've seen, someone in the Japanese yakuza might have a dagger like this. All heavy and silver and weapony like. It's not his. I know it's not. There's just no possible way, after everything that's happened, that it could possibly belong to him.

And...and even if it was...it doesn't matter. Just because he happens to own this very dagger, doesn't mean that it automatically makes him the evil freaky dream dude. If I went around thinking every guy with a silver headed dragon dagger was out to kill me, well I'd never get anything done! I can't just jump to conclusions like that. It's wrong of me. Besides, it's, well it's **Spinner**.

If he were indeed evil freaky dream dude, then one, he would have to be a witch. Call me crazy, but if he was a witch, I would know, wouldn't I? My skills have been honed enough to detect magic around someone, especially if I hang around this someone practically everyday. Mozzy would have picked up on it, I swear she would have. Spin would also have to be evil. Now, even I'll admit, sometimes he can be a jerk, but he's not **evil**. He couldn't be, even if his life depended on it. I know he wouldn't hurt me. He would never sneak into my head, late at night, just to taunt and torment me. It just doesn't fit in with the whole puzzle that is Spinner. It just doesn't make any sense.

But...

No, no buts. I know all the facts, I know how I feel, I know the logic, and it doesn't work out. Spinner's not a witch, he's not evil, and he would never hurt me. Just because I found a dagger, doesn't mean it's **the **dagger. One piece of circumstantial evidence does not mean that I should immediately jump to the conclusion that he is indeed evil and insane, because I know he's not. How do I know there aren't plenty of other people who have a dagger exactly like this? I don't. There's just no way, no possible freaking way.

But...what if he is a witch? If he didn't use magic around me, then there's not any real way I could have been able to realize it. I'm not the best at detecting mystical energy. And Mozz, well, she's getting old –please, dear God, don't let her find out that I thought that. Maybe her sense of detection isn't too bright, either. Spinner may not be evil, but I have caught that look in his eyes, sometimes. The one that sends chills to my very core. It's the look he got around Slade, the one he gave those guys tonight at the movie's, like he would rip their hearts out with his bare hand, literally. This dagger, it seems rare. A one-of-a-kind thing. There might not be any people –especially in Degrassi- who would own something like this.

That's ridiculous! That just doesn't make sense. Why would he go through the trouble of drilling the fact that he is straight as an arrow into my brains if he was truly trying to turn me into some sort of consort, or something? Why would someone who wanted me as their 'lover' treat me like a leper when I came out? That doesn't fit.

Unless, of course, he was just doing it to throw me off track. But that's stupid! I was never on a track to begin with. Hell, I wasn't even in the stands yet! It would make no sense for him to try to make me think he **wasn't **freaky dream dude if I didn't even **know **about freaky dream dude yet. Or maybe that's just what he wants me to think.

This is way too confusing.

I know, I'll just ask him.

Oh, that's a brilliant idea! When he comes back in here, all I have to do is ask, 'Spinner, why in the hell do you have a dagger stored in your dresser?', and he will answer with something like, 'Oh, Marco my dearest love, I'd no idea you would ever find such a vial thing! I had it only to protect myself if ever intruders were to...err...intrude! Did you hurt yourself? Oh, you poor, adorable thing. Come hither and I shall mend the ghastly wound for you, after which I shall make mad, passionate love to you...' Or, you know...something like that.

My gaze drifts down to the dagger in my hands, and I study it for a moment. My first impression was right; it was really beautiful. I run my fingertips lightly over the top of it, tracing out the scales of the dragon's head. I flip the dagger over in my hands, running my eyes over the blade, and as I hold it up to the stream of light still coming from the hall, I notice a drop of crimson at the end. Of course, I know it must be from when I cut myself only minutes ago, but still, it's a frightening sight. With shaking breathing, I try to throw it back in the drawer. Suddenly I don't want to ask Spinner why he has it. Suddenly I don't care, I just have to get it away from me. My fingers will not release it. Frantically, I reach up with my other hand, wrapping it around the hilt to try and pull it away, but I can't. I can't let go, and I don't know why. Probably just nerves. I guess I was so nervous that I didn't realize my hand kind of froze around the dagger.

The sliver of light which hit the silver blade begins to widen, and as I look up, I see it is because the door is opening. Which, of course, means that Spin is done with his phone call, and is coming back in. My entire body is suddenly tense. I can hardly move, I can hardly breathe, hardly think... No, I have to stay calm now. I can't allow myself to just jump to conclusions. When he comes back inside, I will just calmly, rationally, show him the dagger and follow through with my previous plan of just **asking **him why he's got it. There's no reason to be afraid, I tell myself as the door swings completely open. It's Spinner, only Spinner, and I know he would never hurt me.

"Sorry," he murmurs, dropping the phone onto the dresser before turning back to shut the door. His voice is soft, yet somehow casual. "Didn't mean to be on so long. My mom has this odd, completely unfounded fear that I'm going to burn the house down, and..."

"It's you, isn't it?" I ask, my voice shaking, barely above a whisper.

I watch him, my vision blurring slightly as I feel warm, salty liquid beginning to form in the tear ducts of my eyes. He turns around, a look of confusion painted across his pale features as he looks towards me. He stops, however, when he notices the dagger my right hand still his a death grip on. Now his face has twisted into an expression of horror, regret, his breathing is coming faster and raged, and I realize that none of my fears can be put to rest. My gaze drops to the silver in my hand, and I stare at it, completely tense until I feel a tear roll down my cheek. I watch it splatter onto the hilt of the dagger, and for a moment it almost appears as if the dragon is crying. Crying for me, for Spinner, for everything that we just lost but never had to begin with.

It was him...it is him. I didn't even have to ask. The expression on his face when I first spoke, when he saw that I'd found the knife... As much as I don't want to believe it and as much as I try to tell myself it doesn't make sense, it's starting to fit. Pieces of the puzzle that I had dismissed so long ago now make such perfect sense I nearly fall over. The scent of cinnamon that always hung around in my dreams, the way the dream guy was always so warm, the neck fetish... It was Spinner all along.

Tears, falling more freely now, run down my cheeks and I am finally able to drop the dagger. I begin taking a few steps back, not knowing what else to do. "Why?" I whisper, brokenly, taking in deep breaths as my body begins to shake with deeper sobs. "Why...? Spinner..." I'm tripping over my words, but what else can I do? What the hell can I **say **to him? My best friend, my first true love...the person who has been haunting me for more than half of my life...

I'm so afraid right now, I'm shaking. I'm scared, and I'm angry, and I'm hurt and all I really want is for him to crack a smile and come hold me. Why aren't the cameras jumping out? Why aren't Craig and Jimmy and Ellie crawling out form underneath the bed and screaming out, "April Fools", or something like that? It has to be a joke, right? It has to be...a dream. Another nightmare. I don't know, I don't care... I just don't want this to be real.

Please, Spinner, tell me this isn't real.

"Oh God, Marco."

His voice is deep, hurt, shaking, and it answers all the questions the look he gave me had caused. He's not even going to try to deny it. He's not going to make up excuses, or try to trick me...he's just going to stand there and admit it. This isn't a joke, or a bad reality show, or a nightmare, this **is **real.

I look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and I am paralyzed again. What is he going to now? What can **I **do now? I should run, I know, get away from here as fast as I can. I shouldn't be just standing in the middle of the room, waiting for him to explain the fact that not only is he a witch, why exactly he's an evil witch, and why exactly he's been trying to round me up for the forces of darkness...or whatever. I should be calling out to Mozzy, yelling incantations to char him to a crisp or immobilize him or have him sent to God-only-knows-where while I escape. But I just...can't. The only thing I can do is watch him out of frightened eyes, waiting for something, for anything.

We continue staring at each other, our gazes locked, and neither of us are able to look away. He takes a cautious, small step forward, looking as if he is about so speak, but says nothing. I want to stay here, locked in place, and wait for him. I just want him to run to me and wrap his arms around me. God, am I pathetic, or what? I finally learn the true identity of the evil dream witch who has been **haunting **me and **hurting **me –not to mention **molesting **me- and I want to wait for him? I tell myself to run, but my heart isn't in it. What's wrong with me? I should want to run away, shouldn't I? I should want to get as far away from as I can, right? I mean he's...evil...he's...Spinner.

His face holds an expression of heartbreaking regret and sadness, and I wish I could comfort him somehow. "Marco, dude, I know what you're thinking," he says softly.

"Tell me I'm wrong, then," I plead. "Please, Spinner? Tell me that you have this for a project, or something. Tell me that it's like, Kendra's forgotten birthday present, for her Christmas present, for her...Thanksgiving present..."

"I can't..."

"Tell me you bought it. Tell me it was part of your Halloween costume, but you just forgot about it."

"I can't."

"Tell me that someone gave it to you. Tell me that a crazy redneck uncle of yours decided he wanted to take you out critter hunting and so he bought you this dagger, but you realized that critters are just to cute, so you've hidden away and..."

"I can't, Marco!" he screams. I wince slightly, but abruptly stop talking. There is anger in his eyes, frustration, fear... Shouldn't I be the one who's afraid? "I can't, all right? I can't tell you any of that, because it's not true."

"Then tell me I'm dreaming!" I yell back at him. "Please! You can't just...you can't just stand there and...I don't want to believe it. You're not...you're not evil. You're Spinner...you're..." I trail off.

He runs a hand through his hair, a small groan of frustration escaping him. I just stare at the floor, realizing I don't have the faintest idea as to what to do now. Before...before when Spinner was evil dream guy, everything was completely black and white. I knew that I could fear the man who was haunting me and feel safe with Spinner. But now...now I don't know what to think. I can't be afraid of Spinner. That's just...stupid. My body won't let me. But there's absolutely no way I can trust the person that's been haunting my dreams.

"Let me explain...?" he says, more like asks, in a soft voice, one that frightens more than comforts me.

I look up, watching as he begins moving towards me. The fear that I knew I was supposed to be feeling has started to kick in. I begin to back up again, mentally cursing myself for the move. How many times have I sat in the movie theater screaming at the top of my lungs at the blond girl on the screen to run towards the door, stupid, instead of allowing herself to be backed into a corner? I want to scream at him to just stop. I don't want him to come near me. I'm too confused right now. What if he comes over here, acting as if he's going to offer comfort, and instead he just slits my throat? Something tells me he wouldn't do something like that, but I can't trust my instincts anymore, I know that now.

He extends his arm, his skin looking paler than usual in the moonlight, and acts as if he is about to reach for my hand. The move startles me, and I jump back, the back of my knees banging against the bed, almost causing me to lose my balance. I skip what would most likely me a rather nasty fall –with my luck, I would get tangled in the sheets and end up hitting my head on the head board, killing myself or getting a concussion in the process- however, as two strong arms wrap around me.

For a split second, I feel safe, knowing that Spinner has got me, like I always thought he would. The image of the dagger, the same weapon that was used to cut into my skin only a few months ago in my dreams, in **his **dresser flashes across my mind, and my entire body goes ridged. No, this is wrong. I'm not supposed to be letting him hold me. I should be screaming for help right now. I should be fighting. I can't let him...

His hands slide up my arms, wrapping around my shoulders in a feather light grip before he begins to guide me down. I am now sitting on the edge of the bed, blinking tears out of my eyes as I watch his face. Mixtures of confusion and horror and sadness are there, and I can tell he must be just as lost as I am. I want to speak to him, to ask him why, to tell him to just let me leave, but I can't do anything. I can only stare blankly as he bites his bottom lip, take in a few deep breaths, and then fall to the bed next to me. I tense for a few moments, wondering what he's going to do. Just as I am convinced that he has more or less passed out, his arm shakily snakes around my waist, pulling me closer to him. My first thought is to resist, but I fall against his chest like a doll, wrapping my arms around him as I bury my face into the crook of his neck.

"My father was a witch," he begins softly, his voice shaky as if he is going to cry. I hope he doesn't. I don't know what I would do if I had to watch him cry. "And, my mother was a witch too. They met here, and I guess sort of fell in love. So, they got married, and a few years later, well, ta da." I angled my neck to an odd position while he said this, catching as he made a gesture to himself when he spoke the last words.

"Both of them had loved magic, I mean like, really enjoyed being a witch, but after my mom got pregnant... I don't know. They decided that they wanted to live normal, human lives for a while, and broke away from the rest of the fold. Hell, they hadn't even kept contact with the Council!"

I want to stop him, first to ask him what the Council was, and then to tell him to let me go. I **want **to get out of here. I **need **to hear this.

"So, when I was born, they were at a crossroads. They didn't know what to do. Start me off in the ways of witchcraft, even though they didn't even practice anymore, tell me when I was older, or just keep it from me completely. I guess they debated for a while, but it didn't really matter. By the time I was two-years-old, Francis, a watcher, popped up at the door step with my familiar...Tshurka. My parents didn't even have to think about it, after he came. Tshurka was well-known among witches, for his powers when he was alive, and for the people he had trained as a familiar."

He pauses, taking in more deep breaths.

"They...I guess they'd been out of it for so long that they didn't know...didn't know which side Tshurka was working for. They didn't know he'd turned. They didn't know that he...they didn't know he had been banished...or that he was looking for followers." He laughs a little, a harsh, bitter sound, that sounds completely foreign coming from him. "Tshurka was looking for the most powerful witches he could find, molding them to his beliefs, building a fucking **army **of brainwashed witches so he could go back to Rome and become the leader of us all, and my mom and dad were completely clueless."

I feel his arms tighten around me, his warm –burning- hands pressing to my cold skin. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, and I let him hold me, my mind racing. What is he talking about? I have no idea what this Council is, and I've never heard anything about a rouge familiar trying to overthrow the witching world. Could he be...lying to me? I peer up at him, seeing the utterly broken look on his face, a few tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. No, he's not lying. There's no way he could seem so shattered if he was lying.

Shifting, pulling me closer to his chest, he begins speaking again. "He...he trained me in the art of everything he knew. When I was around, like, eight I think, he told me that I needed an apprentice. He said that I was going to be very powerful, and I had a lot of talent, and when I was older, I was going to hold a high ranking in the Council. Do you know what it felt like to have him tell me that, Marco? Me, Gavin Masson, part of the **Council**. He told me I was extraordinary, amazing, that one day everyone who had ever told me I was stupid and worthless would be bowing down to me. I...hell, I was eight, and it was the best offer I'd heard. I thought I was going to be some type of Prince, or something. I thought that...people would love me. I would have cut off my own head if Tshurka told me to, because I trusted him. He was my hero. He was so strong and he knew so much and...he **promised **me power and glory and fame and love. That's all I really wanted...people to look at me and not just write me off as some arrogant, retarded kid. I wanted people to think, 'Wow, isn't he amazing?'. I wanted it so **bad**..."

I can see the tears glistening, and suddenly I'm worried. Not about myself, but about him. I've never seen Spinner cry before. I've seen him close, once, when Rick put Terri in the hospital, and he nearly pounded the guy into the pavement. Uncertainly, I begin running my hand along his back, hoping to calm him in some way. I suppose it works, because he takes a shaky breath, then squeezes his eyes shut, waiting a few moments before opening them.

Briefly, he meets my eyes, then quickly stares back down at the floor. "When...I guess..." He stops for a moment, frowning as he trips over his words. "When he told me that we were going to find someone who was just as talented as me, with as much potential for power as I had, to become my assistant, I was more than happy to go along with him." With a soft smile, he adds, "I thought he was going to find me a playmate. A friend. I didn't have many friends when I was younger, so I was practically bouncing around the house when he told me. He made me promise not to tell my parents what we were doing. I thought I wasn't supposed to let them in on it because they were going to take my apprentice away from me, but it was just so he wouldn't get caught. After all, if he did...he would be brought back to Rome and killed."

"We scrolled for a long time, months, trying to pinpoint the person with **exactly **as much power as I had. It was like a magical Finding Waldo, only you know, without the freaky guy with glasses." His voice softens, as does his face, and he dares to catch my gaze as he speaks again. "Then...we found you."

My breathing hitches for a moment. This was what I wanted to know, isn't it? Why he would try to hurt me. I can't chicken out now. I make a small nod, urging for him to continue. Biting his lip for a moment, he sighs, then looks away from me.

"He showed me how to break into your dreams. I thought it was a game. Tshurka said it would be great. That I would bring you into our circle, you would be my best friend, and together, you, me, and him, would rule over witches. We would be the most powerful, most adored Kings in their history. I thought...I thought that we...I had no idea that..."

I push myself away from him a little, just enough so that I am no longer pressed into his neck, so that I can speak freely. "Didn't you notice something was wrong when he told you to start **stabbing **me?" I hiss bitterly. Guilt flickers through me at his hurt expression, but I tell myself to ignore it, for now anyway.

"He said I had to, Marco," he whispers sadly. "I never wanted to hurt you. I hated it when you were sad. But he told me that it was part of everything. Said that one day when there were thousands of people bowing down to us you would thank me for making you stronger. I knew it was wrong, deep down I knew what I was doing just wasn't right, that **Tshurka **wasn't right, but I wanted it all so bad. I thought I was helping you, in some sick way. That if I did it, my parents would be proud, everyone else would respect me, and that you would...love me." The last two words are barely above a whisper, and they sound so sad, so hurt, I begin to pull away from him a bit more.

"As I grew older, my blind faith in him began to lessen. I was starting to ask questions, to wonder why I was learning so many dangerous spells, why my parents could never help with our lessons, why I could never see you in person, stuff like that. He just told me it was for the best. Everything was always for the best. And for the longest time...I believed him. I ignored all my doubts and decided that if in the end I got everything **I **wanted, nothing else mattered."

"My parents adopted Kendra, around that time I was beginning to think that not everything was going so well. She was –well, is, technically- a werewolf. It was my job to take care of her, so I did a lot of research about werewolves, just so I could take care of her better. Then you moved here and...everything went to Hell."

His voice begins to grow stronger, and he looks up at me. All I can do is blink. Kendra...is a werewolf? I know, I know, not the biggest revelation here but...Kendra's a friggin werewolf?

"Tshurka told me that under no circumstances was I to befriend you. It didn't make sense. He wanted you to be my apprentice, so I thought it was a pretty good idea to get to know you for real, too. I mean, I knew I had set up a cover with Paige but...I really did care about her and I thought that you and I...we were just going to be friends... Everything just got **so messed **up."

He unwraps his arms from me completely, scooting back onto the bed, and as I watch him closer, I can see that he is shaking. His hands run through his hair, and I can hear cursing under his breath. My eyes widen, a bit frightened by his behavior. I take in shallow breaths, the back of my mind noting that I have stopped crying.

Spinner continues shaking his head, his hands fisting into hair almost angrily before he finally brings his arms back around himself. "I never meant for it to be like this," he says, trying to keep the tears from falling. "Tshurka wasn't supposed to be evil, and I wasn't supposed to fall for you, and you weren't supposed to be...so...**you**." I barely catch his words, his speaking so quickly, his voice going from almost a scream to a whisper, but I could have swore I just heard him say, 'fall for you'. "It was all so just... It was all screwed up so much..."

"When I was looking for stuff about Kendra, I stumbled into some old Romany records. I figured that hey, it couldn't hurt if I looked up anything; maybe I'd learn a new spell and impress Tshurka. I saw it...I read...found out that he had turned, that he was evil and against the Council. It took me a while, but finally I figured out what had happened. He'd been using me. Trying to get me to be one of his followers, well, me and you, too. He was gonna use as to take down the Council, then just kill us off once we'd done what he wanted. I was so angry. I was so confused. I didn't know...what I should do."

He looks at me, his eyes pleading for me to say something, or do something. All I can do is watch him. "God," he rasps, his voice sounding more like a sob. "Do you have any idea what it's like to find out that everything you've ever been told is a lie? That the person you looked up to most thought you were **nothing**? To find out that...that you're **evil**. I didn't want to be evil, Marco, really. I just wanted...I just wanted to make my parents proud and be able to make pencils float. I was afraid, I mean, I didn't know that the hell I had gotten myself into. I'd been raised, been taught dark magic. That isn't something you can just turn around and erase. I couldn't just say, 'Oh, well, apparently I'm the bad guy...guess I should change that.' I couldn't..."

"Why not?" I scream at him, cutting off the rest of his words. My voice is trembling, as is my entire body, but I can't help it. "Why couldn't you just come tell me that you didn't mean it. Tell your parents. Tell the Council."

His eyes narrow. "What do you mean? What, do you think evil comes with a little off and on switch?" he yells back.

"Yes!" I reply, crying again now. "I mean...no...but..." I trail off.

"I didn't **want **my power anymore. I didn't want thousands of people throwing themselves at me I just... I wanted to be a good person... I didn't want to hurt you anymore," he adds softly.

"I think you kind of messed up the last one," I say, not really thinking before the words leave my lips. I stare down at the comforter, wincing as I hear his fist connect with the headboard behind me.

"Don't you think I know that?!" he says harshly. "I messed up, Marco. I completely and totally fucked up and I was so lost! I didn't know what to do. I had no idea how to redeem myself."

"So you just decided to keep haunting me?"

He shakes his head fiercely. "No! I didn't want to I just..." Then, very quietly, he starts to speak again, his voice so low he almost sounds like a child. "I killed him."

I stare at him in astonishment, my mouth falling open as I do so. He...he **killed **him? Tshurka? Anxiety grips me, and my breathing slows again. "W-what? How?" I question, biting the back of my cheek to keep myself from shouting.

"With a great amount of difficulty, that's how," he replies quickly. "He knew a lot of tricks, a lot of spells... Too bad he taught me all of them," he adds softly.

"I don't...why?" I ask him, blinking.

Snapping his head up, he stares at me, eyes cold yet flashing at the same time. "What do you mean, **why**? He was evil Marco, he was trying to overthrow the Council, he was using me-"

"Why did it have to be **you**?" I interject. "Couldn't you have just told your parents, or contacted the watcher, what'd you say his name was...Francis? Couldn't you have called the Council and told them you had a rouge familiar trying to use you in his evil plot to take over the world? Why did you have to be the one putting yourself in danger? Why did you try to handle it all on your own?"

"What other choice did I have?" he counters, gaze dropping back to his feet. He pulls his knees up to himself, wrapping his arms around his legs. I want to scream at him. Tell him that he had **every **choice. That he didn't have to go through all of that pain alone, that he never had go through it alone. However, as soon as I open my mouth to begin to speak, I stop, catching a glimpse of a single tear running down his cheek.

Oh, Spinner, please don't cry. He looks too broke down when he cries. I can't be afraid of him if he cries.

"I couldn't tell my mother, my father...anyone. Do you know what they would do?" he implores, taking a pause to calm himself slightly. "They would have thought that I really was evil, that I'd turned to the dark side and was planning to kill them all off one by one...or something crazy like that! They would send me to Rome, the Council would pass judgement, find me guilty of treason, and hang my neck in the village square. Thanks, but no freaking way was I going to just throw away my chance of getting my life back together by handing myself over to them."

My hands clutch his comforter in my hands, and I am unable to stop them from shaking. "Couldn't you have just...told them you were still good? I mean, you're not evil, Spinner...you were misguided...that's all. They would have believed you. They would've listened to your story and realized..."

"Do you believe me, Marco?" he interrupts softly.

I blink a few times, not sure I exactly caught the question. "W-what?" I ask.

He finally meets my gaze, and I feel myself crumbling in those broken eyes. "Before you knew me, I mean, before you **really **knew me. If I had told you everything, that this evil witch had taught me everything I knew but I myself was a good guy, would you believe me?"

I want to say yes, I really do, but I can't, because deep down, I don't know if that's true. Maybe...maybe a year ago, I would have thought he was a little crazy, but I probably would have given him the benefit of a doubt. I think –I thought- everyone deserved to start off with a clean slate. But now... After everything I've been through, the magic, Slade, and now this...I don't know.

Since I do know him, I can honestly say that I do believe him. I mean it's...it's freaking **Spinner**. I don't care if he was raised by a rouge witch, or snuck into my subconscious, tried to brainwash me and molested me in the shower and cut me up; he just can't be the bad guy. Not really. Deep down, I know that he can't be. He's too good, he's too caring; he couldn't hurt people, not willingly, not when he knew what he was doing.

But if I was faced with it now...no, I probably wouldn't believe him. I hate to sound bitter, but at the risk of it, I would not believe a word he said. I couldn't. My experiences over these last months have led me to the conclusion that you can not trust people. If their someone you know and care about –and I mean really, truly **know **them, love them with every fiber of your being- and you know in your heart that they could never hurt you, not really, then you have to keep them close. People like your friends, your family, your...the one you love. But if you meet someone, and you have the **slightest **doubt or fear about their character, just stay away. There aren't many people in this world you can trust.

"I don't know, Spin," I tell him softly.

"I thought I could handle it," he says. "I told myself, self..."

Oh, hey! Great minds think alike! That's how I begin all the sentences I use when I talk to myself! Um...not that that has any significance, or anything.

"If you can use everything that Tshurka has taught you, turn his own evil against him, and defeat him, then that means you really do have the magical talent he was always bragging about. Then, if you can stay away from Marco, make him never want to see you again, and keep from hurting him, then not only are you starting your trip back to the side of good, you have will power, too."

He smiles a little. "I got the first one down, almost perfect. We were having a routine practice session and then...I spilled. Let him know I had him pegged down for what he really was, and we had a showdown. Got the hell blasted outta me, too. But, in the end, I guess he was careless, or something. I managed to paralyze him and..." His sentence trails off as he looks up at me. "You probably don't want to hear the details."

He's probably right.

"I started studying on my own. To my wonderful, blessed luck, no one noticed Tshurka was gone. I mean, it wasn't as if he was the family pet. He spent most of his time upstairs with me, and if we weren't training, he would be off somewhere. All I had to do was find another tamed chipmunk –not an easy task, I'll have you know- and no one was the wiser."

"...chipmunk?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

He nods his head. "Yeah. What, you didn't think familiars were limited to just being cats, did you?" he asks, and I nod my head in the affirmative. "No, Tshurka was a chipmunk. Made sense though, an evil chipmunk hell bent on ruling over the magic world. I always knew they were up to something..."

I stare at him, blinking back tears and astonishment as he trails off. He brushes a few strands of midnight hair from my face, starring into my eyes with a sort of hopelessness that I don't think even **I **have felt before, and that really is saying something.

"God Marco...I'm so sorry," he whispers, almost desperate, almost pleading. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought that... I wanted to stop haunting you...stop hurting you...I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," I say before I can stop myself, and now I feel guilty because I can see that it hurts him, and I can't help but feel justified because he **did **hurt me. "I don't understand it," I murmur.

"I know you don't," he tells me. "You can't. I don't want to you to understand, because then you would have had to go through all of this, too, and you shouldn't have to."

I bury my face into his shoulder, inhaling his scent, taking in a few deep breaths. "You don't make any sense," I murmur into the warmth of his neck.

"You've never been this confused. You've never been made to believe one thing, that everything you did was right and then find out that that ominous dark cloud that threatens to destroy everything...is you. Do you know how much I hated myself? I just wanted to die. I realized I didn't deserve... I didn't deserve my power or my family or you...especially you...but that didn't stop me from wanting it. I wanted to keep everything I had gained. I just wanted to pretend that I really was good and that I could just keep it all because it belonged to me."

"But I didn't belong to you," I whisper, my voice hoarse and soft from crying and hurt.

"I wanted you to."

"But I **didn't**," I say, more harsh, with more defiance, with more disbelief on my part.

A pause that lasts a lifetime and he finally asks, "Do you now?"

And I know the answer to that. I do, I do belong to him, and I want to, because God, where else am I going to go? There's nowhere else I **want **to go. I just want to sit here like this forever and tell him that I love him and let him kiss me, but I can't. I can't tell him that, because now I know that deep down, he is the enemy, and even deeper down then that, he's the only one I've ever really loved, and even deeper down then **that**...he's just as lost and broken as I am. Can I really stay with him? Now that I know everything he's done and everything he is? It wasn't his fault, I get that completely. He was mislead from the beginning and so surrounded in lies that it took him years to finally find a way back out. But in the process, he ended up hurting me so bad...

"I don't know," I lie.

"Yes you do," he insists. "I won't blame you for hating me. It would be easy for you to hate me. I would hate me. And if you tell me right now that I never had you and that you can't forgive me for this, and that you can't trust me, I'll let you go and you'll never see me again. I'll come clean to my family and...and Hell...I'll even turn myself into the Council, and you won't have to worry."

Even as he says this, his arms tighten and he pulls me closer. He dips his head down, warm, soft, lying lips brushing over my skin and I want to believe him so badly it hurts.

"But if...if you can somehow find it that you still want me...that you've ever wanted me... Would you stay with me?"

"Why didn't you stop haunting me?" I ask. "After you found out that Tshurka was evil and you were like, inadvertently evil, why didn't you just...**stop**? Why didn't you leave me alone and just turn around and..."

"Do you think I didn't try?" he interrupts. "You just don't get how hard it was, and how hard it still is. Everyday I'm still tempted. I could just as easily pick up some black spell and kill every witch in the surrounding area, gain their power, and start that whole reign of chaos Tshurka always convinced me I would start. But I don't. Because now I know it's wrong."

"It," he begins, sighing. "It's like a drug addict. They know that what their doing is wrong, but they don't usually just stop cold turkey. They go little by little, giving up their addiction piece by piece... I don't know. That's what it was like. I didn't just turn around and get my Angel wings. I had to work for redemption. I had to turn in all the evil and make it good, and I had to make you trust me. I wanted to protect you...I thought I was. Whenever I snuck into your dreams...that was the only place that I could..."

"Molest me?"

"Be with you. Do you remember when I used to hold you and kiss you?"

"Yeah."

"Do you miss it?" he asks, more softly then the first question.

I nod. "Yeah."

"I miss it, too," he admits. "Do you think we could ever get it back?"

"What was with the dagger?" I bring up.

"Please Marco, please answer me," and he's pleading now. "Do you think we could get it back? I just...I want you back."

"I never understood the dagger. Was it some way to put your mark on me, or something? You didn't have to hurt me so much, Spinner. I would have...you didn't have to," I say softly.

"Did I ever have you?" he repeats.

"**Why **did you keep hurting me?"

"Because you kept hurting me!" he shouts, angry. "Every single fucking day you were there and you didn't look at me the way I needed you to! You were tripping over yourself to get Dylan and...you didn't...you didn't even see me sometimes. I grew up with my world revolving around you and you already gave your heart to a vampire queen and a hockey queen." He's panting, but calms down enough to continue speaking. "I hurt, okay? You were tearing me up inside and out and I was so lost I thought... I thought because you hurt me I could hurt you. I didn't want to... I thought maybe you would stop. I thought maybe someday...you might love me. Do you?"

"I never meant to hurt you," I apologize. "I'm sorry to, Spinner. I would have tried to help you. I'll still try. I didn't want you to feel like that. I never meant to..."

"Shut up," he whispers. "Just answer me, please? Do you love me?"

"Yes," I answer shakily.

He lets out a breath that he must have been holding for a while. "Will you say it?" he asks.

I nod my head, a little unsurely. Bringing my face up, I meet his eyes, and we're both crying now. "I love you Spinner."

He cranes his neck and I lift mine. More warm tears fall down my cheek when we kiss, lips and fear and sadness all mingling as his mouth moves over mine. I curl my fingers into his back, and I need this. This is what I've wanted for so long, and now that I have it, it's perfectly flawed and I think that maybe I can die happy. Reluctantly I pull back, wishing I didn't have to breathe.

"Will you stay with me?" he asks.

"I don't know..." I say, lowering my gaze to his chest.

"Will you stay with me?" he questions again. "Please?" he adds.

"I don't know," I answer again.

"I **need **you," he murmurs. "I need you to help me because I don't think I can do it without you."

"Do what?"

Taking in a breath, he answers, "Live."

A moment passes, and I don't know what to say. I love him, I do, but he betrayed me. It wasn't his fault. But he still hurt me so much. I don't know...

"I need you to," I admit.

He lets out a sigh. "Then stay with me."

"I don't know if I can."

"Do you want me to get on my knees and beg you Marco? Because I will, if that's what you need me to do. I'll give up everything else I have if you just promise you won't leave me. Please? I don't want you to leave me again. I couldn't live through it. I don't want to live through it if you won't love me."

"I **do **love you."

"Then just **stay**."

"How come the Council haven't come for you yet?"

"Because we were off the radar. That's why they never knew Tshurka was here. They don't care about my line anymore because they think we've given up magic."

"But why?"

"I don't know, all right? Just answer me."

"I can't. Not right now. I need more time to think. I don't want to leave you..."

"Then don't."

"...but I'm not sure if I can stay. You just need to give me time, Spin. I need to think things through. I'm so confused right now. I just need to make sure that this is what I need. What we need."

"I need **you**."

"A few days, a week or so, I won't keep you waiting long."

Before I can blink again he pulls me into another kiss and I melt back into his arms. He's so warm, is the only thing I can think clearly as I press my lips to his even harder, trying to gain more contact. He pushes me away slowly, even as I try to reach up and capture another kiss. His arms slide from around me, and I realize that he is letting me go.

"You've already kept me waiting."

For now.

I give him a sort of longing, betrayed look before I manage to shuffle off the bed. Slowly, I move towards his door, never taking my eyes off of the carpet. My mind is swimming, and I feel dizzy, and I have to stop a few times to keep my balance. This is too much. I was calm when he was holding me, even when he was telling me about Tshurka. I was calm when he was kissing me, even though I knew I was touching the same person who I thought was trying to kill me only six or more months ago.

Maybe I shouldn't leave. Maybe I should just turn around and run to him. Maybe I should just let him hold me and kiss me and touch me as much as he wants, because I know that's what I want to. It would be much less complicated if I just gave up know and went to him.

"Marco?"

My hand pauses on the doorknob. I blink, not having realized that I'd already made it to the door. Turning, I look over to the bed, only to see him lying on his side, his back to me.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

I pause.

"I love you to."

He pauses, to.

"I hope you come back."

"I hope I come back to."

And then I open the door, walk out, and slam it shut. I turn and begin walking down the hallway, a numb, somewhat surreal feeling settling around me as I do. I step into the living room, where I see Mozzy curled up on the couch, eyes glued to a glaring television screen.

"Mozzy," I say, gaining her attention. "It's time to go."

_What? _she asks when she looks up at me. _**Now**? But we can't go, Rom Baro! I have to figure out which of these morons killed their uncle. I get a free prize if I'm the tenth caller into the station with the right answer and I... Why aren't you wearing a shirt? Wait, I don't want to know! If the two of you have been having sex in that room right next to me I'm gonna pu-_

"Mozzy," I say again. "We're leaving. Come on."

_Why are we leaving if you were having sex? Was it not any good? Didn't he 'rock your world', Rom Baro?_

I don't answer.

_Did you damage your vocal chords or something? What's wrong with you?_

"It was him," I whisper, feeling my knees shake.

_What was him?_

"Freaky dream guy. The one whose been haunting me."

_I don't know what you're talking about. _

"It's Spinner. The freaky dream guy is Spinner. He's been haunting me."

_What?!_

"We have to go home now, Mozzy." I look at her, my eyes tired and pleading. "Come on."

_All right_, she says, jumps off the couch, and follows me out the front door.

-

I lie on my bed, my arms wrapped around a pillow, while my face is buried into another as I sob. How could this happen? How could I not have known it was Spinner? But then, how could I have **known **it was Spinner?

_I can't believe it was him. I can not believe Tshurka... We, the Council, everyone had forgotten about him. He was full of empty threats and losing magic. That must have been why he went to Spinner. He recognized a young talent with great power. I'm just glad it wasn't you that he chose. _

"Why couldn't you sense it? If he had so much power..." I mutter.

_Because he did a glamour. He hid his aura. Pretty strong magic, it must have been, too. I would have had to been looking for him to find him. _

"You **were **looking for him," I remind her. "Remember?"

_I was looking for black magic. He wasn't using any. He was being honest about what he told you, that he wasn't using his powers for evil anymore._

"What about what he did to me?"

_It wasn't exactly evil power he needed to slip into your dreams, nor a great amount of it. You were completely unprotected. _

"Why **me**? Why did Tshurka pick me?"

_Because, _she answers as she comes up to me, curling at my side. _He was looking for a witch with tremendous untapped powers who was completely innocent to the world of magic and therefore easily manipulated and corrupted. You should be proud of your friend. He managed to defeat his evil. That is a very difficult thing to do. Not many witches, once turned to the side of darkness, would be able to redeem themselves._

Her words calm me. I sigh. "Do you think I should go back to him?"

_It doesn't matter what I think. _

"Why? I respect your opinion," I tell her.

_It's not that._

"I get it," I murmur. "Is this one of those things that only I can answer? That I have to look deep down into my heart to find the truth? Like a whole Jedi knight thing?" If she says yes, I suppose I know what my answer will be.

I love him.

But I don't know if I trust him.

I need him.

But I don't know if I can forgive him.

In the end, the only choice that I can make is to-

_No. It doesn't matter about my opinion, or yours. No matter what happens, you won't get to choose, anyway. _

"What?"

_Do you really think that now he has come clean to you, to me, he can stay out of the Council's radar? They will find him, put him on trial, find him guilty of treason and practicing of the dark craft, and kill him. _

Horror suddenly fills me and I shoot straight up in bed. I stare at her, eyes wide and afraid. "W-what?" I ask her. She lays there, not answering, and I feel chilly slivers of ice cutting into my heart. "No. They can't do that. It wasn't his fault. Why would you tell them?"

_Me? I'm not going to tell them Rom Baro. I know how much he means to you._

"Then how the hell would they know?" I ask her angrily. "If they haven't caught him by now, then why would they get him now? Why would they kill him? He hasn't done anything! Not on purpose! He-"

_I am sorry. I do not want to be cruel, but things like this happen. He will die, of this I am sure. Try not to dwell on it. _

"How can you be so heartless?" I ask her. "I have to go warn him."

_He most likely already knows._

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but I'm not going to let this happen." I stand up hastily, the back of my teeth clenched. "I have to go tell him."

I begin running towards the door, heart racing. Spinner might die? I don't understand what Mozzy is talking about, but if he's in danger...I have to find a way to get to him first.

_Stop, Marco, _Mozzy tells me, and for some reason I do.

"What can you possibly say to me?" I ask her harshly.

_Nothing. But she can. _

"What...?"

I turn, only to yelp in surprise and fall backwards onto the floor. Blinking, I look up to see Samantha standing in front of my doorway. She has a gentle smile on her face, and she looks exactly as I remember. Elderly, kind, sweet, and completely out of her mind.

I have a bad feeling about this.

"Evening, deary," she says softly. "I believe you have gotten some news."

---

Gah! That was such a beeotch to write.

Spinner: Tell me about it.

...you didn't do anything!

Spinner: Yes-huh! I had to act all angsty in the proper places. And I had to cry. C-R-Y. That's hard!

Marco: Um...hello!

Spinner: Hello darling. –huggles Marco-

Marco: -sweat drops-

-sighs- Boys. OK, well, yes...review, please? It'll make me happy, and a happy fanfic writer is a productive fanfic writer.

Marco: Ha, tell that to Kaiba and Joey!

...I never said anything about a happy anime fanfic writer...


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Broken Glass

Disclaimer: You think **I**own Degrassi? Hah! I'm not even legally Canadian. Yet... The poem in this chapter does not belong to me, either. My very dear friend, fanfictiongeek36, wrote it, and it just sounded so much like Marco, she graciously allowed me to use it in this fiction.

Author's Notes: Erm...

Spinner: Look who finally decided to show up!

::sweat drops:: I blame Brandon Flowers, and the song Mr. Brightside, because it's way too addictive. And Konstantine, too, because that song is also addictive. I also blame the fact that I am way too easily distracted. And livejournal. ::cough:: Review responses!

Zelda Apostle (Towenaar): I know nothing about witchcraft, Wicca, or anything. I have never claimed to know anything. I was not about to research any of it, for a number of reasons, a few being I live in the Bible belt, so there aren't very many resources I can get to, and I did not want to offend anyone by using it just in case someone was actually Wiccan. So, because of these reasons and a few others, I decided to use some of the things you always hear about, and twist them around to where they could work in this story. I am sorry you seem to have gotten the idea that I was actually trying to follow Wiccan. Please, do not take it personally.

AngelsDon'tSleepHere: See, I am updating! Thank you for the review! Also, I just read Rose Colord Glasses. That story was so great. Everyone should go read it!

Serenity Wintris: Cool! Thank you for adding it to your c2 archive. Thank you for the review, too!

drew's baby: Yes, that new cd does rock. It rocks my socks so hard my Converse fell apart. Thank you for reviewing!

Forbidden Secrets: And continue I shall!

fanfictiongeek36: I made you cry? Aw, did you write me a poem with your tears? I hope so. ::giggles uncontrollably:: **Anyway**, thank you for the lovely reviews. It made me happy, and I'm glad you like it. Your opinion is the only that matters, anyway. Heh. Go finish your Sparco so you can post that too!

L'Arc-En-Ciel: We're all a little lazy sometimes. Thank you for reviewing.

twitch: More cuddling and moesting shall arrive soon!

fox eye: Thank you very much for the kind response!

Sloane Miette: Merry xxx-mas to you, too! Heh...yeah...it is a little late but... Thank you for the compliments.

Ash: I won't make Spinner die.

Spinner: Squee!

I'll make him suffer, yes...

Spinner: ::sweatdrops::

...but not die.

RiseAgainPhoenix: Oh, I was called clever. I am so glad that you all seemed to have followed the plot twist. I was afraid that I would loose everyone. But, I guess you guys are just smart like that –you know, kind of like Green Day fans. Thanks for the great encouragement!

BlackOwl892006: A cookie? Well, der! I love cookies! ::updates::

Bridget N: Thank you!

Tasha: Buwhaha, another Sparco lover! My evil plot has begun!

Marco: What evil plot?

My...um...evil one?

Magick Mystery: I am glad you like it!

The Dude: Yeah it should be too. I saw that and I was like, "Aww...screw it. No one will care." Heh. Thanks for reviewing.

Squrlie Jack: Thank you!

MyChemicalLus: Yes, reviewing is fun; we should all do it a little more often.

anjel919: See, I'm updating now. Ah, he will deflower Marco. Wait for...um...chapter eighteen. Oh, is that the next chapter? Hmm...

CosmicPudding: You used the word otaku! That means you must like anime! ::huggles until he can't breathe:: You are so cool! And you are writing your Sparco! Snaps for doing so! Everyone, go read The boy is mine, cause it's awesome. Thank you so much for reviewing. Oh, and also, more snaps to you for being a dude. It is so awesome to find a guy who reads and writes fanfictions.

Enigmus: THANK YOU!

Dreamer'sWasteland: I know you had to wait...I'm sorry. I'll try to update sooner. Thank you so much.

KinseySix: Do you think I enjoy trying to write intelligence –thank you, by the way- and angst? Don't you think I want to write the porn? But, this flippin plot just snuck up on me and was all like, "Grr, write me...write me!" And I was all like, "Fine! But only if there is porn!" And it was like, "Fine..." I add smut in here, just for you, and the other people who are rallying for sex. Thank you for reviewing.

---

**Chapter Seventeen: Broken Glass**

"You can't let him die."

"It is not up to me."

"I can't let him die!"

"It is not up to **you**, either."

"Of course it is! I'm his best friend, and he's in this mess because of **me**. I'm not going to let some know-nothing Romany guys just fly in here and put him to death! Now, if you would please move out of my way; I have to go tell my friend that he is in imminent danger of being hung."

_Do you think he knows what imminent means?_

"He's not stupid! Besides...we had imminent for one of our vocabulary words last week."

_I still don't think he would know what it means. _

"That's because **you **don't have any faith in him. I do. I know that he doesn't deserve to be executed."

Mozzy gives me this **look**, like she thinks I'm a complete and utter moron and turns her back on me, huffing in that kitteny like way that she does. I glare at the her back for a few moments before turning towards Samantha, who is now sitting on the edge of my bed, giving me a sympathetic look. Her eyes are so soft and gentle, like she's afraid I'll break if she speaks too seriously. I don't know why she's here exactly, and I have to admit, her presence does make me a little uncomfortable. But who could blame me? She's so kind looking it sets off this crazy air around her.

Besides, I don't have time to sit here and talk to her and argue with my cat; I have to get to Spinner. But they won't let me leave. Samantha and Mozzy put a charm on the doors and windows when I tried to slip out, and as pitiful as it is, I can not fight off a little old lady and my kitty cat. I am trying to convince them to let me go, because I have to talk to him. I'm not just going to let these people show up and take him away, especially if I have a chance to warn him before they do. Samantha and Mozzy are trying to convince me that Spinner doesn't need me.

Of course he needs me. He **said **he did. They don't get that. They think that after his revelation to me, it was a sign that he was prepared to accept punishment and atone for his sins. But they just can't seem to grasp the fact that he doesn't have any sins to atone for. It wasn't his fault, I keep telling them. It was Tshurka; he brainwashed him; he was just innocent. Either they don't believe me or they don't seem to care, because Mozzy told me that it didn't matter.

So now, I'm stuck in house arrest with a pissed off familiar and a seriously doped up watcher while my best friend is in danger of being condemned to death for something that wasn't his fault, and I can't do a damn thing about it because I never paid attention during some random lesson where I was taught to disenchant magical charms.

"Please," I say, directing my words to the elderly woman. "You can't just make me sit here while I know what he must be going through. At least, let me call him. I won't even warn him about the Council. I just have to say goodbye to him," I tell her softly, making my expression one of innocent pleading. Maybe I can play on her obvious weakness for...well...weakness. If only I can get her to pity me enough for her to allow me to talk to him, just for a minute, I can somehow find a way to warn him.

I know he would find a way to do it for me. If he were trapped in some sort of alternative universe with a hundred demons attacking him, he would still find a way to save me. He would do so much, and he's already been through so much for me, this is the least I can do for him, right? I have to find some way to tell him... To warn him...

"You poor dear," she says softly as she reaches a trembling hand out, rubbing my cheek. I resist the urge to flinch at the feeling of her cold, clammy skin brushing against my own. "You have no earthly clue what is happening, do you?" she questions.

I shake my head, throwing her hand away from my cheek. "Of course I do. I'm not stupid," I declare and hear Mozzy cough in the background. "Spinner was tricked when he was younger, and because he told me, somehow that set off this freaky cosmic forces-of-darkness-detector and now these old dudes from Rome are gonna come here and kidnap him and then burn him at the stake," I answer in one breath.

Mozzy laughs so hard she rolls off the bed and Samantha lifts a hand discretely to cover her own smile. I frown at both of them. This is no time to be laughing at how little about witchcraft Marco knows; this is the time to be allowing Marco to gave save his love!

"That is not exactly how it works," Samantha informs me gently.

I shrug, pouting a little. "Well, it's close, right?" I question.

_Not **even**. Where the hell do you get this stuff, anyway? _

"Then what?" I insist, opting to ignore Mozzy, because frankly, life is just so much easier that way.

With a sigh, Samantha looks at the cat, then back to me, before she finally begins to speak. "When you told Mozol about your discovery, she contacted me immediately, as all familiars are instructed to do if ever their charge is in danger, such as you were."

"But I wasn't **in **danger," I interrupt her. "Spinner isn't..."

"And it was I who contacted the Council."

What?! my mind screams. I stop talking, words becoming caught in my throat as I stare into her grey eyes. She called the Council? But, why would she do that? Didn't Mozzy explain the circumstances to her? Didn't she mention the fact that Spin was not evil, he was only misguided, and that I was in no real danger? Why would Samantha call them if she **knew **what would happen?

"I am sorry, but it is what I was told to do in the case of a rouge witch," she apologizes. "I hope someday you will be able to forgive me."

My mouth falls open for a moment, then closes again, before once more falling to the floor. "Forgive you? But why... **He **wasn't rouge! Tshurka was! Spinner had changed. He wasn't a bad guy anymore. He switched teams."

_In more ways than one._

I narrow my eyes and snap my head towards Mozzy's direction, my eyes blazing and my teeth clenched. "Would you just stop it?" I growl at her. "This isn't a joke! Spinner could die! This is serious. If all you're going to do is just lie there and make crude comments and put him down, then just shut the hell up, because I don't want to hear it! This isn't about you, okay? This is about him. If you're not going to help me get him back, then why don't you just go bury yourself in your litter box!" Fuming, I add, "Besides, it's not like you'll be of any use to us anyway. You were my familiar and you were supposed to protect me. And gee, let's think, what's happened to Marco since you've come along? He's been molested, tortured, beaten, nearly raped, and the list just continues. Honestly, I don't know why you're even here right now! It's obvious you don't think anything of me or Spinner, so it's not like you're going to do anything to help either of us now, because you never have before! In fact, why don't you just leave now, Mozol? Why don't you just get the hell out and never come back!" I scream.

A tense silence settles around the room, smothering and deafening at the same time. I take in rapid breaths as the fog that settled over my more rational side begins to lift. I just cursed Mozzy out, didn't I? Holy hell, I'm dead. I'm seriously dead. She's going to scratch me to death! I can't believe I just said that. Did I really tell her to go bury herself in her litter box? Oh God, what was I thinking? She's going to turn me into her own personal scratching post after this, I just know it.

So why am I slightly proud of myself for sticking up to her?

She stands up on all fours, then jumps onto the bed, before stalking over to me, stopping right to my side. Her eyes burn into mine, and they are completely emotionless. I guess they would be. After all, she is only a cat...or at least only has a cat's body...but still. For some reason, I think I may have stung her more than I meant to.

_Do you mean that Marco? _ She asks me seriously, and I suppose it's only right that she uses my real name since I have used hers. _Do you want me to leave? _

I clench my fists. "Yes," I hiss. "You betrayed me and Spinner. I told you only because I thought you could help him, and you didn't. You don't care about either one of us. You should just find someone else to go put down."

_Fine_, she says, and I can swear I hear bitterness in her voice. _I just want you to understand a few things before I go. You are one of the strongest witches I have ever looked after. There is a great power inside of you, and I truly do mean that. One day you will have a place in the Council, and one day, there will be people looking up to you. Secondly, I did not betray you, despite what you may think. Had I not contacted Samantha and the Council still learned of the truth, not only would Spinner and I be killed, you would be, as well. And last, as much as you seem to think I could care less about you or him, you couldn't be more wrong. I do not think I have ever cared for a charge and his gay Canadian lover more than I have for the two of you. And trust me, I have had plenty. _

She looks towards Samantha, then says something in Romany to her. I can still hear her thoughts, but I ignore them, since I am still caught up in what she has just told me. She...cares? She has...faith in me? Obviously she must be lying. I know that she can't have. She would probably rather eat kibble than ever compliment me. But...she just did. And she complimented Spinner, and gave me a blessing for our relationship, in a freakish kind of way. Maybe I was too harsh on her? Suddenly, a wave of guilt fills me. With an audible sigh I rub my temple with my hands, shaking my head, murmuring a soft 'I'm sorry' underneath my breath. When I look back up, I begin to speak to her, only to see that she is gone. I blink a few times, surveying the room for any presence of her. I look to Samantha, who merely gives me a blank expression.

"She left through the window," she informs me. "She's very discrete when she wants to be."

I look over at the window, feeling very stupid and very ashamed for blowing up at her because of one stupid comment. It was kind of funny, in an insensitive, perverted sort of way. I shouldn't have yelled at her. I guess I'm just, stressed at the moment, and upset, but really, who could blame me? No excuse for taking it out on here, though.

"Should I go after her?" I ask, momentarily forgetting the fact that I am under magical house arrest.

She shakes her head slowly. "No," he answers. "She would probably be very hurt right now. Mozol has a lot of pride, and it can be easily hurt, especially by those she loves. She tries to play it all off with sarcasm and jokes, but deep down, she is probably just as sensitive as you are."

"What does that mean? As sensitive as I am?" I ask her. "Are you trying to imply something here?"

"She will come back," she assures me, a secretive smile working it's way onto her light pink lips. "Do not worry about her. She is strong. As much as you hurt her, I do think you have instilled a bit of respect into her."

"By yelling at her?" I ask.

"No, by telling her what you really felt. Harsh as it may be, have you ever actually told Mozol of your true feelings?"

I think about it for a moment, mind wandering back to all of those times and all of those little comments I have ignored. "I suppose not," I answer. "So what now? Do I just wait for her to come back?"

She continues smiling at me, though her eyes take on a slightly more anguished look. For a moment, the expression on her face frightens me, and I can't stop my mind from racing to the possible meanings that dampened smile might have. Does she think that Mozzy won't come back? Did I really upset her that much?

Reaching out with a smooth, pale hand, she pats me on the head lightly, before allowing her eyes to soften back into that loving grandmother sort of stare. "I don't suppose Mozol has told her anything of her past, has she?" Samantha questions me softly, continuing to lightly stroke my hair.

I shake my head, starring up at her with a curious expression. The fingers in my hair are soothing, reminding me of the way Spinner held me that night after Slade, and the way he rubbed my back and shoulders and slid his hands over my neck to give me comfort enough to finally get back to sleep. I smile a little, the memory of Spinner lifting my spirits ever so slightly.

"She lived in a small village, filled with magic and pain," she begins softly. I pull away slightly from her hand, keeping my eyes trained on her expression, watching as a few different emotions begin playing across her face. "She lost her family to disease, and lived with the village elders. Oh, but she was such a very powerful woman. Respected at birth for the power that each villager could feel emanating from her spirit."

"That doesn't surprise me," I remark quietly.

And it doesn't. Mozzy never really talked much about her life before she became a familiar, but I realized that she must have been a very high standing person among the ranks of witches. She's always been slightly arrogant, but I have learned that one does not usually gain such self-confidence without having something to back it up. Mozzy's was her power, and knowledge.

Samantha nods. "Yes. Well, after what can only be described as several...trials and tribulations, she finally met a man. His name was Corin, and he was not only a powerful witch, he was also the village's only black smith. After several years of attempting to court her, the two were finally wed. A month after their wedding, Mozol became pregnant."

"Pregnant," I echo softly. "Like, there would be mini-Mozzy's running around?" Samantha nods, causing me to shudder slightly. Now **that's **a scary thought. Can you imagine? Little Mozz's running around, cursing like no tomorrow? You could probably harness enough negative energy to power small countries; like Togo, or something.

A sorrowful expression begins to tug at her features. "Corin was not what anyone thought. He was working for some very dark witches. When Mozol found out...she turned him in."

My eyes widen. "You m-mean...Mozzy? She..." I trail off, tripping over my words, not sure what to say. "But, why did she turn him over?" I question. "If she really loved him, wouldn't she have tried to help him? Why would she just, give everything up?"

"She didn't give him up," Samantha interrupts me, her eyes stern and yet still so gentle that I shut my mouth immediately. "Mozol had her reasons."

"But-" I attempt to begin again, only to have her raise her hand, signaling for me to stop before I even start.

Frowning, I watch her, waiting until she starts speaking again. I don't understand why she's telling me this. Is just some diversion to get me to stop throwing my tantrums about trying to get in touch with Spinner? As interested as I am in learning something about Mozzy's past -and yeah, that's pretty interested, because Mozz is the most secretive cat...person I've ever met- I'm thinking that making sure my best friend doesn't get decapitated is just a **wee**bit more important.

"Do you love him?" she questions.

I blink at her, confused for a moment. Then, slowly, I nod my head. "Yeah," I answer her, my voice shaking slightly. "I do. Which is why I need to-"

"Would you kill him?"

This causes me to stop speaking, my thought ending abruptly as soon as the question she has just posed fully registers in my brain. I give her a quizzical look, eyes wide and confused, but she only stares back at me, and unreadable look in her eyes as she waits for me to answer. I begin to speak, then stop a moment, going over her question in my mind. Is this some sort of trick question, or something? Would **I**kill **Spinner**? Considering the fact that I doubt I would ever kill **anyone**, I assume that she would already know the answer to the question.

Judging by the way she is still starring at me, I suppose maybe she doesn't.

Shifting in my seat, I sit up straighter, trying to keep a calm demeanor. Obviously this question has some sort of significance to the story she has been telling. And, depending on exactly how I answer it, maybe she will even let me try to warn him. I take in a deep breath, then lick my suddenly dry lips. I have to get this one right. Spinner's life is on the line, here. If I can just get her to see that, deep down, I really do care about him, maybe she'll understand how important it is that I save him.

"I would never hurt him," I answer truthfully.

A somewhat sad look flashes through her eyes, and I realize that I just answered wrong.

"Exactly," she says. "If ever you were in the position which you were faced with two choices, either to kill him or join him, you would undoubtedly join him."

"Wait-"

"Do you want to be evil?" she asks.

I shake my head in the negative, trying to speak before she cuts me off again. "No," I say hurriedly. "But I-"

"So you would not kill him, but you would refuse to join him?" she says, tilting her head to the side. "There is no way you could do both."

"Yeah, but... I mean if we were..." I trail off, sighing in frustration at the fact that I just can't seem the words to convey what is I'm thinking. "I could too," I finally murmur, as lame as the logic is.

She pats me on the head again, a sympathetic smile on her thin lips. "No, Marco, you couldn't. Not without compromising your ethics or your heart. It is one or the other. Betray the one you love, and in the process of doing what deep down you know is right, end up stranding yourself in a life of heart ache and pain, or betray an entire race and give up your good along with your sanity in order to stay by your love's side? It is not an easy decision."

"Then why even make it?" I question her. She gives me a startled look, as if she is about to vehemently argue with the words. I shake my head, placing my hand on top of hers. "No...I don't mean...not make any decision," I quickly say, derailing that train of morbid thought before it gets to far. "I mean, instead of just giving up on them, giving up hope, why not try to save them?"

"It is not that easy..."

"So?" I ask, and I know I am yelling now. My vision becomes slightly blurry, warmth beginning to spread through my eyes. "I never said it would be easy. It would be blood and sweat and you would probably ending up hating yourself and them in the process, but if in the bitter end, they weren't the bad guy and you could still have them, how could you even think about going down any other road? If you really loved them, then shouldn't you be willing to give everything up to help them?" My voice is barely above a whisper with the last words.

Silence settles around us. My eyes dart up to look at her face, and I am somewhat surprised to see that she appears to be considering my words. I doubt what I just said even made much sense. I was barely listening to myself as I spoke. My mind wasn't exactly focused, still humming with thoughts of Spinner and Mozzy and the entire confusing mess that is my life at the moment. With a heavy, dry sort of sigh, I drop my head into my hands. I close my eyes, shutting them tight enough to block the dim lamp light from my vision.

What am I going to do?

A hand is placed on my shoulder and I look up, only to see Samantha giving me a pitiful look. I knew it. What I said was wrong. She must have been looking for some other type of answer, or something, because just by that glint in her eyes, I can tell what she is going to say. 'Sorry, but you can't help him,' or, 'He's too far gone,' or something along those lines. The words don't matter, anyway, she's telling me the same thing; I'm completely helpless in this situation. Spinner is already as good as dead.

How could I fail him like this? Why couldn't I have just kept myself calm enough to stay with him? I didn't have to tell Mozzy. I know I could have prevented this, somehow. There had to have been a way, I just wasn't thinking clear enough at the time to realize the consequences of my actions. I didn't think that running away would mean Spinner was going to be executed! God, how did all of this get so messed up? Wasn't it just a week ago the biggest problem I had was telling my supposedly straight best friend that I loved him? All I want to do is go back to that time. You know, the place in my life when I just had normal problems.

So, all right, maybe it's not every day you realize that you're in love with your male best friend, but still, it's probably a simpler problem to deal with than this. I shouldn't have been so quick to be afraid of him. I mean, now that I've really thought about it, I know that Spinner can't be evil; not really. I just wish I could have realized that, and been so sure of it as I am now, when he first told me that he was indeed the witch would had been haunting me. Maybe if I could have just, I don't know, done something different, there wouldn't be a hoard of witches coming after him to take him to some foreign country where their going to cut his head off.

"Marco..." Samantha begins softly.

I shake my head, just wanting to tell her I don't want to hear it. I get it now, I honestly do. I've screwed up completely. I've practically killed my best friend and my familiar hates me, and depending on how things go at Spin's trial, the Council might be coming for me, too. And the worst thing is there is nothing I can do about it.

Why do I have to be so damn helpless all the time? I was with Slade, and I'm still suffering the guilt that brings. I mean, I know that he's probably out there right now, molesting some poor boy who can't help but just believe those blue eyes. And now, I can't help Spinner. Hell, I can't even help myself.

I don't know what Mozzy was talking about when we first met. I'm nowhere strong enough to be a witch. I don't deserve these powers I have, not if I can't do anything good them. To be perfectly honest, I can't really do **anything**, other than set things on fire and destroy innocent closets.

I wish none of this had ever come to me. Not Mozz, not my powers, and not even Spinner. At least then, they wouldn't have been drug into this mess with me. I just wish none of it had ever happened. I just wish...

"You would have to go to Rome."

My head snaps up. A sharp kind of **something **goes down my spine, and at first I think I just dislocated my neck again, until I come to the startling realization that no, this feeling isn't the numbness setting in; it's hope.

"W-what?" I stutter.

Smiling, she begins to push herself off the bed and into a standing position. "As soon as you made your confession to Mozol, she contacted me, and I told the Council. At the moment I did so, they would have had their closest agents go to your friends house and retrieve him."

"Is..." I begin, but trail off momentarily. "Is that why you wouldn't let me go back, or call him or try to contact him or anything? Because the Council was there?"

"We did not allow you to contact him, because it would have been a futile effort," she explains. Upon seeing my rather confused expression, she continues. "Your friend knew he was taking a risk the moment he began to speak with you. He would have realized as soon as he told you that there was a great chance he would end up dying because of it."

That...that explains it. Why, when I was leaving, he sounded so heart broken when he told me he loved me.

"Also, as soon as you left, they had most likely already taken him," she adds. "It would have only done to serve you further heart ache by allowing you to attempt to speak with him. He would have already been gone."

I gulp a little, dropping my gaze to my comforter. "So...they already have him? He's probably already on a private jet to Rome right now?" I whisper.

"Most likely," she answers. She pauses for a moment, stepping behind the middle of my bed. "Marco, I know that Mozol would probably have me skinned for this but... I can feel it in you."

"Feel what in me?" I question.

"Power," she says. "And goodness. You have a great deal of magic inside of you, deary, but also a great deal of compassion and love. There are many great things you can do with your strength. And I truly believe...that you can save him. That is, if he wants to be saved."

"He does," I tell her, giving an affirmative nod to further emphasize it. "I know he does."

She returns the gesture. "Then, I believe that you are the one who can do it," she tells me. "But first, you must find a way to get to Rome."

I blink a few times, thinking over my possibilities. "Um..." I begin. "Well, there's always by plane. And um...you know...boats. But I think planes are faster. And I get sea sick."

"Then you shall need one ticket to Rome."

"Yes!" I shout, excited. If Samantha thinks I can do it, then maybe I can. If I can just get to where their keeping him, maybe I convince that Council the same way that I convinced Samantha. That deep down, Spinner really is still the same, good, innocent, little witch that would never hurt anyone. And I... "Hey, Samantha?" I question.

"Mmm, deary?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a credit card I could barrow, would you?" I ask. A moment passes, and she lifts her eyebrow, giving me a quizzical look. "I'm kind of low on cash right now," I explain to her. "I don't think I've really got enough money for a ticket to Rome."

Realization dawns on her face. "Ah," she says. "I suppose that would pose a problem." She places her hand on her face, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, but we watchers don't really carry around much money. Even if I did have any, I doubt it would be in Canadian dollars. You would have to get the money from your parents, is the only way I could think of, unless you know how to raise enough money for a plane ticket in the next few hours."

My parents? I give her a dumbstruck look, blinking a few times. I can't ask them? What am I supposed to say to them? 'Oh hey, ma, pop, could I borrow your credit card? What for? Oh, I need a ticket to Rome. Why do I need a ticket to Rome? To rescue Spinner from being executed.' This would inevitably lead to conversations about Spinner, Rome, witch craft, and my sexual preference, none of which I really want to discuss with my mother and father.

But...what other choice do I **have**? Like Samantha said, I can't really think of a way to earn enough money for a ticket, not within in the next few hours, at least. Well, I guess there are ways... No ways that** I'm **going to participate in, of course. That's just...well...so utterly wrong on so many different levels that I really don't want to think about.

I wonder which one my father is going to be most devastated about; the fact that I'm a witch, the fact that I have to save Spinner from being killed, or the fact that I'm gay.

-

"Ma?" I whisper, knocking softly on the wood frame of my parents' bedroom. "Papa?"

Neither of them make a move. I sigh softly, then look back at Samantha, who is giving me an encouraging look. I wish I could just turn around, because that would be so much easier than standing here in the middle of the night, trying to explain to my parents exactly why I'm gonna need a few hundred bucks to fly overseas to save my best friend from being executed, but I can't. There's no other way around it. I have to get to Rome; I need money to do that. Unfortunately, there are no spells for creating any, and Samantha doesn't exactly carry around loads of cash. My parents are my last and **only **resort. I just have to take in a deep breath, and pray that luck is on my side tonight.

"Ma," I say again, a bit louder this time. I see her hand twitch, but other than that, nothing. "Papa," I also say, and receive even less action from him. Why did they have to be those deep sleepers? I take in a another breath. "Ma! Pa! Wake up!" I shout.

This seems to gain their attention. My ma opens her eyes, albeit a bit reluctantly, and begins to push herself up. Papa keeps his head buried in his pillow, and if his left foot hadn't twitched, I would still think he is asleep.

"Marco?" my ma questions softly. "What is it honey? Did you have a nightmare?"

I almost say yes, because that is the only word I can think of to describe this entire situation. However, I shake my head. "No," I tell her. "I'm...fine."

She gives me a sleepy smile, and I force myself to return it. "That's good," she murmurs, looking as if she is about to fall back onto the bed and go back to sleep. "Well, goodnight Marco."

"Wait," I say as I see her begin to ease herself back down. She pauses, then looks up at me. "Um...do you think papa would mind if I borrowed his credit card?" I question.

"Oh, what for honey?" she asks, her eyes beginning to droop shut.

I lick my dry lips, trying to decide the best way to put all of this. "Well, um, you see I..." I trail off, letting a nervous laugh escape me. "This is going to sound **crazy **but..." She gives me a soft, expectant look, and I realize that she is probably so tired, I could tell her practically anything and get away with it.

Here it goes.

"Ma, I'm a witch. A living, breathing, witch. I've known for the past seven months. You know that cat, Mozzy that I've had hanging around? Well, she's my familiar. She's been tutoring me in the witchy ways of witchcraft. And, as it turns out, Spinner, you know my friend, is a witch too. Unfortunately for him, his familiar was kind of off his rocker, so he was evil. But he's not evil anymore. He's a good guy. But, see, this Council, they think he's still evil, and their probably going to kill him. But I can't let them do that. See, Spinner's my best friend and...and..."

Might as well, right? I mean, if there was ever one time to tell my parents that I'm gay, why not now? Why not just put all of my shields down, and show them the true Marco Del Rossi? Why not just let go of my fear, my inhibitions, and tell them the truth?

"...I can't let him die."

Because I'm a total wimp.

"So now I need money so that I can go to Rome, find where their putting him on trial, and find someway to help him escape."

There. I did it. It's all out in the open now. Well, okay, **most **of it, anyway. And now, all I have to do is wait. Wait to see if my parents are just going to laugh at me and send me to the crazy house, or if their going to help me. Oh God, please let this work. Please, please...

"That's nice dear."

I blink. What? That's nice? Is that all she's going to say? I scrunch my brows, my eyes moving from my mother to the still frame of my father.

"Yeah..." I agree. "Nice. So um...do you think I could? You know, have a few hundred dollars..."

Another pleasant smile crosses her face and she nods before falling back onto the pillows. "You're fathers wallet is on the kitchen table," she mumbles into the pillow. "Have fun."

I furrow my brows, blinking, before turning around to Samantha. She has the same confused, slightly amused expression on her face as I'm sure I'm wearing. It...worked. It worked! Oh my dear Lord, I can't believe it actually worked! I've got the money, I've got my chance, I can save him!

"Thank you ma," I say hurriedly, sure that this is too good to be true. "Thank you so much. Don't worry, I won't let you down. I won't let him down..."

"Very good. Now, go save your friend, Marco. Let your ma and papa get some sleep," my ma whispers tiredly.

"Okay," I agree, nodding my head enthusiastically.

I can't believe how easily I'm getting away with this. Sure, I feel a bit guilty for taking advantage of my parents, but it can't be helped. It's for a greater cause. It's for him.

I turn, ready to run downstairs as fast as witchly possibly and grab some money before heading to the airport, before hesitating. It felt good, extremely and incredibly good, to get the fact that I was a witch off my chest. I mean, I haven't been able to tell anyone. And the fact that you have mystical powers is most definitely **not **the easiest secret to keep. Being able to reveal this secret to my parents relieves so much stress. Also, given the fact that the both of them are for the most part unconscious, it's not like their actually processing any of the information I give them. I could tell them anything, really, and I doubt it would even get to them...

"Hey, ma, papa," I say again, turning to them. "While I'm, you know, being perfectly honest with you... Well you remember my desk, the one that I said I gave to charity?" My papa makes a sort of grunt, which I'm guessing is his way of saying 'yes' in his state. "I broke it, during one of my lessons."

"How interesting," my ma murmurs, snuggling deeper into her pillows.

Hey, this getting stuff off my chest thing is getting easier with each secret I tell her. "And remember that time grandma and grandpa came to visit, and they brought their goldfish? Well, the goldfish didn't actually **drown**, so much as I accidentally flushed them down the toilet."

"Such a good boy, Marco."

My smile widens. "God, I feel so much better now that I can tell you both this. Let's see...um...when I was in first grade, I didn't really get elected class president. I was the secretary of treasury."

"They allowed a first grader to handle money?" Samantha questions from behind me.

Shaking my head, I answer, "No. I mean, yes. Well, we instituted a sort of bartering system, where we used to use crayons and Pixie Stix instead of actual money, but that's not the point. Also, I'm gay. Oh, and it wasn't really the neighbors who broke the window in the den. I tripped and accidentally threw a few plates of ma's good china –which I was using only because I'd forgotten to unload the dishwasher and I was starving- through the window. And-"

"Marco," says a gentle but firm voice as a hand is placed on my shoulder. I tilt my head back, blinking slightly as I see Samantha giving me a soft smile. "I realize that you want to inform your parents about all of your little...misadventures...but I think it's best if you try not to get distracted from your mission."

A rueful grin tugs on my features and I nod. As purifying as it feels to get all of this off of my chest, I am a man on a mission. I can't let my confess-fest get in my way. Besides, who knows? Perhaps on this journey I'll somehow intensify my tiny amount of courage, so that when I get back, I can tell my parents these things for real. Wouldn't that be great? To be able to look my father in the eye, and tell him face to face that I was gay? It'll probably never happen, seeing as how I would have to gain of will of reinforced steel during this little mission, but still, it's something positive to think about if ever I realize that there is no possible way in hell I can actually help Spinner in any way.

Flicking one last glance to my parents, I whisper a soft I love you, you know, in case I never get to tell them again, turn on my heel, and walk out of their room. While Samantha closes the door, I rush to my room and get my passport and ID card –hey, what can I say? I'm organized like that, and just coincidently happen to know where everything is. I rush out of my room and down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I can in order not to wake my parents. Samantha goes to the front door while I rush to the kitchen table, pick up my fathers wallet, and scrounge around the random crumpled pieces of paper and cash before finally getting a hold of my pa's credit card. I grab my jacket from one of the chairs, stuffing the credit card, passport, and ID inside. Before leaving, I make one last stop at Bank of Del Rossi, since I realize that I may need just plain old cash sometime.

I wonder if they accept Canadian money in Rome? I doubt I'll have any time to get it changed. Oh well, it doesn't really matter. It's not like I'm going for the Smithsonian; I'm going to save Spinner.

I reach the door, and just as I am about to open it, I stop, realizing that we don't really have any way to get to the airport. Rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, I turn to go back into the kitchen, pausing only when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Samantha questions. "We must go."

"Yeah, I know. But I have to call a cab," I inform her.

Shaking her head as a mysterious smile forms on her lips, she reaches out with her other hand, and throws the front door open. I squint my eyes, trying to adjust my gaze to the darkness of the night outside, before I realize that there is a cherry red convertible parked in my driveway. My jaw drops. What the...?

"How do you think I got here, deary?" she asks, laughing softly as she begins pulling me outside. "On my broom?"

I shake my head as my mouth continues falling open and closed dumbly. "No... But I didn't think that...you would drive...**that**!" I exclaim.

"What can I say? I like to travel in style."

-

"Only one ticket, sir?" asks the ticket agent.

I nod. "Yes," I answer.

She raises an eyebrow, but excepts the credit card none-the-less. I stand at the edge of the ticket stand, nervously playing with the edges of my jacket. Huh...ticket is an odd word. It sounds kind of like lick it, only not. Oh, great...just great. Now every time I think of tickets I'm gonna think of licking, which will inevitably lead to indecent thoughts about Spinner and chocolate syrup. Damn this hormone driven teenage body...

"Is your father here?"

"Huh?" I say, whipping my gaze up to meet her, thinking distinctively **non**-dirty thoughts about chocolate covered Spinners.

"Your father? It says Gitano Del Rossi (1), age 54. I don't think that's you. I need your father, or your mother, or another legal guardian to sign this."

"Oh well...um..." I trail off, unable to think of a quick lie.

She narrows her eyes at me, beginning to tap her long, neon pink nails on the countertop. "Listen, little boy, I don't know what you're playing at. Coming in here with no luggage, no bags, no nothing except for a credit card and some lame ID. You're lucky I haven't called security on you."

I feel my face heating in embarrassment. "Listen, I just-"

"I will sign for him," says a voice from behind me, the tone deep, commanding, and oddly familiar.

The ticket agent looks behind me, an annoyed sigh escaping her lips. "Are you his mother?" she questions.

"Something like that. I am his guardian."

Furrowing my brows, I make a move to turn around, since, hey, I can't remember ever having a guardian. I am halted in this action as a hand is placed on my shoulder, and I find myself being shoved to the side. Nearly tripping over my shoelaces, I somehow gain my balance by grabbing hold of the counter. Ah! How rude! And, who the hell was that, claiming to be my guardian? Quickly I turn back around, my eyes narrowed with confusion and anger, when I see who it is standing at the counter.

She is a woman, somewhere in her thirties, I believe, with mid-waist, curly black hair and an even darker complexion than my own. There is a blood red ribbon tied around her locks, keeping them in place. She is dressed in a burgundy long sleeved top and tight black jeans, as well as some boots. My first impression is that she appears to be a modern day version of a stereotypical gyp-

-sy.

Holy flip?!

"Ah, well, Mrs..." the ticket agent begins, still sounding vaguely annoyed.

"I go by Mozol."

I'm going to faint, I swear I am. My heart can not **take **all of this crap!

"Mozol, I need you to sing here as well."

"Fine. Oh, I also need a seat on this flight."

"But, ma'am, it is almost full-"

"Is first class?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then I shall have a seat. Just add it to the bill."

"Of course."

My jaw, which I believe has just popped itself out of place, falls even farther to the floor as she turns to me, smiles, and gives a sly wink, before returning her attention to the still huffing ticket agent. I merely gape. How...what...? Dude!

"All right, here are your tickets, ma'am," the ticket agent says, a fake smile on her face. "Have a nice journey. Next!"

With a slight sneer, that somehow manages to seem like a smile as well, Mozzy –or, the person who **claims **to be Mozzy- turns on her heel. My gaze meets her own, and I am nearly knocked to the floor with shock as I see a pair of green cat eyes, swimming with mirth. In a moment the are gone, replaced with a regular human gaze. She winks, then lifts her hand, motioning for me to follow her. I make a move to do so, then hesitate. Couldn't this be some sort of trick? Maybe the Council knows about my plans to try and get Spinner, so now their sending a decoy to snatch me up and stop me from saving him...

Or maybe Mozzy has somehow done a glamour and turned herself into a human. You know, because she's cool like that.

Shaking my head, I decide to risk it, and begin to follow her. She walks briskly, and I have to jog a bit to keep up with her. Finally, after wandering around and dodging the great masses of confused people, we make it to a somewhat secluded corner of one of the waiting areas. I stand about a foot away from the woman, still acknowledging this might very well be a trick. Her eyes dart around for a few moments, making sure we are alone. She then takes a small step forward, and I resist the urge to move back.

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that no matter what, you can't show that you're afraid. You can't show weakness.

"Rom Baro," she says, and I instantly recognize the tone in her voice. Amused, annoyed, content, angry; completely Mozz.

I still don't trust her.

I stare at her, wary of her next move. My eyes narrow and I hold my ground, even as she lets out an irritated sigh and roll her eyes.

"It's me," she informs me. "Mozol. You know, 'the cat'."

"Says the **woman**," I shoot back.

"Listen," she begins, her voice soft but harsh. "We do not have time to just stand around here, with you accusing me of things, and me trying to explain it all to you until you finally believe me. So, you are going to have to be silent, not ask any questions, and let me explain. And, you have to trust me. So just shut up, stand still, and let me finish. Then we are going to get on that plane and go rescue that boy toy of yours."

I blink.

"Though I am a familiar, I have some of my powers. I am able to put a glamour, such as making myself appear human, for short periods of time when I really want to. And, well, I was not fond of the idea of being stuck in a tiny cage through the entire trip to Rome."

I blink four times in succession, too many questions running through mind to ask them even if I were allowed to.

"It was obvious you needed me. Despite your foolish ramblings earlier, you can not function without someone as dignified, powerful, wise, honest...well, you get the idea, without me. Samantha would have accompanied you, but she could not offer you much help or support. I can. Besides, you are my charge. I can not let you out of my custody so that you can go wreak havoc upon the innocent peoples of Rome. And..." She trails off momentarily, before meeting my gaze. She takes a step and puts her hand on my shoulder. I look down at the hand, a confused expression on my face before looking back up to her face. "I could also not let you believe I did not care for you. Marco, you are my charge, and I must be hard on you. I must push you to your limits, only because I want you to survive. Though I may not show it, I truly do lo- lov- lo-" She takes a deep breath. "You, Rom Baro, are like the second cousin twice removed I never had, and I lov- Oh, screw the sentimental. We're going to miss our flight."

I can't stop starring. Is it really be Mozzy? I mean, yes, I know she still has her powers, so it makes sense that she could do this kind of glamour but...

This last time. This last time I will give her the benefit of a doubt, I will try to trust her.

I only hope it doesn't backfire this time, but I need someone to help me.

"Come along."

I look up to see she has already turned, and is heading towards our terminal. I begin walking forward, when I stop. "M-Mozzy?"

She pauses, then turns back to me. "I told you, Rom Baro, we don't have time for-"

I cut her off by throwing my arms around her middle, embracing her in a hug. I bury my face into her...ah! I pull back quickly, my face red, cursing my height, as I realize I was just smashing my face into her, erm, ample bosom.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, referring to both the harsh words I said earlier, and the bosom-smashing incident.

She merely shakes her head and smiles. "It's fine," she says. "Now, come along."

-

"What are you doing?" Mozzy asks, trying to look over my shoulder.

"Nothing," I murmur, quickly placing my hands over the napkin I am writing on.

She gives me an odd look, then turns her attention back to the magazine on her lap. I tap the pen, which I borrowed from some businessman sitting in front of me, against the side of my chin, trying to think. After being on the plane for about an hour with nothing to do, I decided that I might as well write something. Don't know why. Just seemed like the most productive thing to do at the time. I've already used up about four napkins. Sighing, I look down at the napkin, scanning over the words I have written.

_You do not care for me now_

_You just could not understand me_

_You did not know how I felt _

_When you shoved me to the ground_

_My feelings were tossing inside out_

_But you did nothing, you just walked away_

_Then, I did what you said_

_I went with him,_

_I regret that I did_

I blink a few times. I guess I didn't realize I had written those exact words. My mind has just been wandering, thinking about Spinner, about the way this past year has been doing. The kiss at the dance, the kiss in the gym, the kiss in his house, the whole Slade...

_I just don't give a shit._

I swear, I will get over that someday. I think, for reasons completely unknown, I blame Spinner a little bit for Slade. If he would have only told me how he felt about me sooner, only let me know who he was, if he would have come over to my house that night, if he wouldn't have lied, if he wouldn't have hurt me, if...if...if.

Tiredly, I scribble the words _Broken Glass _near the top of the napkin, since I really can't think of a better title at the moment. I want to write some more –this poetry thing is really good for getting out feelings; especially the ones you didn't know you had- but I don't really feel like thinking anymore. I need to distract myself. Not allow my thoughts to wander. How am I supposed to save someone when I am starting to blame them for all of my problems?

A light yawn escapes me, and I stretch out my arms to the side. When did I become so exhausted? Well, I suppose after going through everything I just had, anyone would need some sleep. But, I'm afraid of that, too. After all, what are dreams? Just a way into the subconscious. I don't want to know what my subconscious is thinking. There are probably bad, bloody, perverted, twisted thinks lurking in the depths of my battered psyche. I don't want to go there!

"You seem tired Rom Baro," Mozzy whispers to me.

"M'fine," I murmur.

"Get some sleep. You will need to be well rested if you wish to get anything done. If you really wish to save your lover."

I feel a bit of heat rushing to my face at the name –lover? I mean, we're not even really going steady yet. I doubt we'll ever get to go out. I mean, other than the fact that there is a good chance he will be killed, there are also other forces working against us to factor in. Say that I do save him, say we both survive; then what? Are we going to go back to Degrassi and live gaily ever after? There is no way that he'll ever come out of his closet. It's not as if we'll enter the school one day, hand in hand, and he'll be able to ignore everyone's sneers. I won't, either. We can't have an open relationship...I don't know if we'll even have a closed relationship. Do we have any kind of relationship? I told him I loved him, and I do...I know I do. And he said he loved me. But, since when was love enough to keep two people together?

This, this is depressing. I don't want to think anymore. I just want to clear my mind and do something else. Hey, I wonder if they have any coloring books on here. I bet they will. I could make a red duck, cause red ducks are pimp, and then give it to Ellie, because she really likes ducks, and then-

"Rom Baro!" Mozzy says again, gaining my attention.

"Huh?" I ask.

"I said, get some rest. You'll need it."

I frown at her. Doesn't she understand I don't want sleep and the possible disturbing dreams that could come with it? Doesn't she get all I want to do is color my red duck in peace?

In order to humor her –and be rid of the intense glare she gives me- I fold my arms on top of the tray and lay my head down, before allowing my eyes to drift close. If I just pretend to fall asleep, then maybe she'll just leave me alone. If I can just...

_It's cold._

_Like, really, really cold. Freezing. Almost as if I am standing on the top of a mountain, one covered in pure white snow, with bits of icy rain falling on top of me. _

_Oh, hey, maybe that's because I **am **standing on the top of a mountain, one covered in pure white snow, with bits of icy rain falling on top of me. _

_Hell, I fell asleep, didn't I?_

_I look around, shivering, my teeth chattering, trying to figure out where I am. Usually when I dream, I am in a desert. Not at the top of a snowy mountain. Of course, those are the dreams that take place in my territory. Maybe...maybe this isn't my dream at all?_

_I turn around, because I think I just heard something. I become deathly still and strain to hear the noise again. Soon, the same sound, almost like crying, reaches my ears. It is coming from the ledge above me. Squinting my eyes, I notice that there are a series of rocks which jut out from the side of the mountain, leading up to the ledge, almost as if it is some type of ladder. Unsurely, I approach them. I place my hand on one of the rocks, testing it. It is cold, and my hand is almost instantly frozen, but I think it is steady._

_I begin to climb up, biting my lips, trying to keep from whimpering at the cold so I can keep my attention trained on the voice from up above. A sigh escapes me, and I am relieved, since I am finally near the top. I reach up, trying to grab the next rock, when my foot slips off the rock below me. I feel myself falling off, the side of my cheek beginning to brush against the side of the mountain, a particularly sharp rock pricking my cheek._

"_Eep!" I scream in distress. _

_I know I am going to fall. Oh, no. They say that if you die in your dreams, you will die in real life. I usually wouldn't believe something like that, but now that I'm a witch...well...anything is possible!  
_

_No sooner than I started falling, a strong, **warm **hand is grasping my arm, pulling me upwards. My body is scraped against the mountain, and I can feel part of my shirt being torn. Thankfully, other than my cheek, this is the only kind of wound I get before I am finally brought to the top of the ledge. _

_I take in a few deep breaths, pushing myself on to my hands and knees, looking up, not half surprised to see a tear stained Spinner starring back at me. _

"_Spin-" I start, not sure how I am here, or if this is even real, but reaching out to touch him anyway. _

_I crawl over towards him, settling myself into his lap. Though he does nothing else, he wraps his arms around me, holding me closely. I allow my cheek to rest against his neck, reveling in the small warmth there. I can't believe he is still so warm, even in this unbearable cold._

"_Eep?" he whispers into my ear, and I jump slightly. I see a confused expression on his face, one that holds a mixture of amusement._

_I pout slightly. "Yes, eep. What's it to you?" I question, sniffling a bit, pushing myself closer to his warmth._

"_Nothing."_

_I curl my fingers around the fabric of his t-shirt, starring down at the designs on it. "Where am I-where are **we**?" I question him. _

_He shrugs his shoulders a bit, lifting one hand to run it through my hair. "I don't know, really. Most people have some place where they retreat to in their minds. It's kind of like...um...I can't explain it. It's just weird. You know that desert thing that you were always in when I...we were in?" he asks._

_I nod my head, trying to ignore the stinging when he reminds me once again of the fact that my first love is also my first true fear. You know, besides bees. Shudder._

"_That's your...place. This is mine."_

"_Oh," I murmur dumbly. "So...how did I get here?"_

_He meets my gaze, a little smile on his lips. "I guess you just really wanted to see me."_

_Where I would usually blush at the comment, I instead lean up, lightly brushing my lips against his. He sighs, allowing his eyes to close, and melts into it. I pull back only a moment later, since I really didn't mean for it to become anything more than a soft peck._

"_Yeah, I did," I tell him. _

_We are silent, the only sounds of cruel, whipping winds. I amuse myself by continuing to run my fingertips over his shirt, entranced by the warmth. His hands are splayed on my back, and he allows himself to relax a bit by placing his head on my shoulder. He nuzzles my neck slightly, allowing his warm breath to brush over my skin, before just breathing normally._

"_I'm gonna save you," I tell him softly._

_He laughs, a bitter sort of sound, one that I think actually hurts him. "Why?" he asks._

_I pull back, causing his head to fall from my shoulder. He snaps his gaze up to me, and I glare harshly at him._

"_Don't say things like that," I tell him in all seriousness._

_His own eyes harden. "Don't tell me what I can't say," he retorts. _

_I open my mouth, prepared to give him some very moving speech about how in the end, he is worth it, and how I care about him, and how I don't know if I could make it without him, but am cut off when his lips swiftly capture mine. My initial reaction is to put my hands on his chest and push him away, then berate him for trying to district me, after which I shall give him the speech. But, somehow, this plan is completely erased from my memory when his tongue slips past my lips, and he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. A little whimper/moan escapes me as our hips meld together, and I go slightly limp in his arms. He removes his mouth from mine, and I whine a little at the loss. _

"_I'm really not worth it," he murmurs against my ear, moving to nibble at my jaw. I tilt my head, allowing him better access to my neck, which he quickly takes advantage of. "I hurt you, so much, and I don't deserve another chance," he tells me softly. He kisses his way back to my lips, and I quickly press my mouth to him, trying to keep my lips moving at the speed of my heart. He groans and tangles his hand into my hair. I run my tongue shyly across his bottom lip, before taking a chance and shoving it into his mouth. An indefinable sound of pleasure escapes from him as he pulls his mouth away. "God, Marco, please...just give up on me," he begs. His fingertips come up to the rip in my shirt, making soft stroking motions across the exposed skin. I barely register his next words as he dips his head down, replacing fingertips with his mouth. "Don't try to save me, Marco. Let them hang me, let them burn me at the stake, it doesn't matter anymore. You can't still want me..." _

_Something in the words seem to break the spell his kiss has put me under, and I shake away from of the pleasure induced fog which has taken control of my mind. I pull away from him slightly, only to be pulled back as he grabs my wrist. I push against him again, telling myself that I will not allow myself to be taken advantage of. He's just trying to use my molestality to his advantage, but it won't work. The salvation of Spinner is much more important than some dream-quicky in freezing snow._

"_I told you, don't say things like that, Spinner."_

_Oh, that feels **good**..._

"_You...you're always worth it."_

_So very, very good..._

"_Of course I w-want you...I lo-love you."_

_Damn it, where did he learn to do **that**?!_

_I groan again, his tongue slipping from my collar bone to my ear. "Spinner..." I try to say something, but I can't seem to get out any words, as Spinner has decided that he's going to keep his hands busy by trying to unbutton my pants. I try to wriggle out of his grip, but one arm is firmly wrapped around my back. The other undoes my fly and slides to my thigh, the area just below my boxers. _

"_I'm worthless, baby," he whispers into my ear, his hand still rubbing my leg. "I deserve everything I'm going to get. You can't save me. You can't save yourself, so there's no way you can help me through this."  
_

"_Spinner, please..." I beg pitifully, not even really sure what I'm asking for. I lift my leg up, pressing it against his hand. "Please, please, please..."_

"_I love you," he says, and kisses me harshly, stealing my remaining breath away. When he finally pulls away to breath, he removes his hand from my leg, causing me to whimper loudly, and places it on my shoulder. Then, taking me completely by surprise, he pushes me off of him. _

_I fall, my back hitting the ground hard. I wince, a sound of pain escaping me. Angry, I push myself up, looking him in the eye. He has a sad, lost expression on his face, like he wants nothing more than to just grab me and hold me again. Why...why can't he? I begin to near him again, preparing to ask, when suddenly, the snow stops falling. Looking around in confusion, I can see the snow beginning to melt, forming small rivers of clear liquid._

_What...?_

"_Just...forget about me, Marco. You can't help, and I'm not worth it, anyway."_

I surge forward, and the lunch tray I was laying on slams into my throat. The contact jolts me awake, and I shoot up, the back of my head making contact with the seat. My eyes open quickly, and I look around, pain and cold and frustration curling through my tension filled body.

"Spinner?" I whisper, looking around. I don't see him, which quickly leads me to the realization that indeed, it was only a dream. I look to my side, seeing Mozzy starring at me, and odd expression on her face. "What?" I snap.

She grins. "Have a...pleasant dream?" she questions me.

"No, not particularly," I answer. "Why do you ask?"

If possible, the smile widens. "Oh, no reason," she answers. "Do you know that you tend to speak in your sleep?"

"..."

"What's most interesting, well, at least, to me anyway, is the fact that instead of just using dialogue, you tend to make a lot of odd noises, as well."

"..."

"Either you were having one hellish nightmare, or your little boy toy was getting freaky and kinky with your little dirty self."

"..."

Oh my God, please tell me Mozzy was the only one who heard me.

Biting my lip, I raise my gaze, only to find several pairs of eyes on me. My face turns red instantly with the looks of horror, disgust, and...lust I am receiving. Oh, and she looks in her eighties, too. That is just...sick and wrong. And...eww...

I bury my face into my hands, trying to forget that everyone here has just heard my little dream. That's just great. I frown, wrapping my hands around my shoulders. I can't believe they just heard...**that**! Damn Spinner. Why couldn't he have just let me talk to him? Why did he have to keep being all touchy?

"Are we there yet?" I murmur towards Mozzy.

I expect her to laugh, or make some sarcastic comment, but she does nothing. I look up at her, a questioning expression on my face.

"What?" I ask.

"Don't get too excited," she tells me seriously. "When you get there...things will be tough."

"I know, Samantha told me that it would-"

"Did she tell you that you could die?" she asks me. "Did she tell you that you might have to watch his death before suffering your own fate? Did she tell you that even if the two of you do survive, you will be shunned by the witching world forever? Did she tell you that the others will hate you, will want to destroy you? Did she tell you that the chances of you surviving this are one to a trillion?"

One to a trillion?

"So that means, I still have a chance, right? That I can still save him, if I really, really try...?"

She says nothing, only turns her attention to the window.

I'll take that as a yes.

---

Spinner: That was a sucky chapter!

Marco: It wasn't sucky. It was kind of...

Spinner: Crappy, drawn out, awkward, anti-climactic, retarded, smutty... Well, okay, the smutty was good...

Thank you.

Spinner: But the rest blowed.

Marco: I thought it sucked?

Spinner: Suck, blow, they mean the same thing!

Which is...?

Spinner: I get to screw Marco!

::sighs::

Marco: Review. Please.


End file.
